He opened the first package, which proved to contain letters, all in the same handwriting, and using the same type of notepaper and envelope. They were addressed simply to ‘Judith’ and must have been given to her by hand. When he opened the top one, he quickly realised it was a love letter to his wife. He glanced at the date: a month after he’d gone to America. It was signed by a man she’d worked with for several years.

He stared at it in shock and disgust. It was a few moments before he realised that Gemma had come to stand next to him and had also read the letter. He spoke gently, ‘Darling, this isn’t for your eyes.’

‘I’ve seen it now.’ She looked at him with anguish on her face. ‘I can’t believe it. I’ve met Guy a few times and he’s a horrible, smarmy creature. How could she?’

Adam hadn’t liked Guy Fenton either.

‘She said you had been unfaithful.’

‘I told you I wasn’t, Gemma.’

The silence that followed seemed fraught with their unvoiced thoughts and reactions, then he folded up the letter. ‘I’ll read a couple of the most recent ones and that’s it: I’m going to burn the rest unread.’

‘Send them to that man’s wife!’ Gemma said. ‘I’ve met her, too. She seemed really nice. She deserves to know the truth.’

‘No, darling. I won’t do something as unkind as that.’ He stared down at the envelopes, so many of them. It seemed ridiculously old-fashioned in a computer age to handwrite love letters instead of sending emails, but perhaps that had seemed romantic to the two people involved.

No need to check that Fenton knew Judith was dead, thank goodness. Only why hadn’t the fellow been at her funeral? Others from her workplace had paid their respects.

Adam knew he ought to feel outraged, or something similar, but apart from disgust at having her cheating confirmed, he felt numb more than anything, had done since they rang and told him his forty-one-year-old ex-wife had dropped dead at work and suggested he might wish to tell his daughter.

He kept a surreptitious eye on Gemma, worried at how this might be affecting her. He saw her swallow hard, still looking shocked. She blinked her eyes to get rid of tears, but didn’t make one of her spiky remarks aimed at him, thank goodness.

He wished now that he’d obeyed his first instinct and made her leave the room so that he could check the contents of the hiding place in private. Only if he’d done that, she’d still be blaming him for cheating on his wife, instead of realising it had been the other way round. And he wanted desperately to win her love again. She had been such an adorable little girl.

‘Daddy’s Princess’ was an overused cliché, but nonetheless it described perfectly how he’d felt about his only child … still did.

Setting the love letters aside, he looked at the next bundle of letters, hesitating, absolutely dreading now what else he might find. Perhaps Fenton hadn’t been her only lover.