Her daughter held her breath for a second, then opened her mouth and started to wail. She couldn’t have a conversation with that in the background; apart from anything else, Nadia would tell her to look after Jo.

She was starting to feel like screaming when she heard a key in the lock, and the swish of the front door opening. She stood up and walked into the hall.

Tom was closing the door. ‘Sorry I’m a bit late,’ he said. ‘I went to the London Bridge with—’

‘You did what?’ Alice said. ‘You went to the pub?’

‘With Scott. For one pint.’

‘You didn’t think to tell me?’

‘I didn’t think it was a big deal.’

‘Well it is. I’m supposed to be speaking to Nadia. She had something to tell me about the killings.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’

‘You didn’t bother to find out.’

‘Why didn’t you call? I would have left.’

‘I did. You didn’t answer.’

He clapped his hand to his forehead. It was almost comical. ‘Shit. I left my phone in the car.’

‘Great. Well done, Tom.’

‘And it’s still there. I had to park two streets away. I’m sorry, Alice.’

‘Never mind.’ She grabbed her keys and phone. ‘Your turn.’

Tom

He dipped his hand in the bath. It was cooler than he would normally have had it, but he was going to share it with Jo. Instead of bathing her and putting her to bed, then going down to eat dinner, he was going to take a bath with his daughter, put her down, and go straight to sleep himself.

No dinner, no TV, no work, no doom-scrolling his phone.

All he wanted – the only thing he could think about – was closing his eyes and going to sleep. Whatever else he had learned, he knew this: early-evening beers were only going to have one effect on him, and that was to make him even more tired.

He took off his clothes and picked Jo up, then sat in the bath, holding her upright in the space between his legs. She grabbed a fistful of water and watched it trickle out of her fingers, then laughed and did it again.

He scooped up some water and ran it over her back, gently massaging her shoulders. He took some more and cleaned her head, feeling the soft hair and smooth skin.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he said, and touched her nose with the tip of his forefinger. ‘You’re my beautiful girl and I love you.’

She grabbed his finger and squeezed and he shook her hand about. She freed it, and with both arms, started splashing as hard as she could. Droplets flew around, landing on his face and running down his cheeks. She giggled, and he laughed with her.