‘Really . . .’ She walked over to the window, looked over, a long, rather alarming perspective of indefinite space ahead of her. ‘Well, here I am.’ She didn’t want to sound too keen, but on the other hand, there was no point in putting him off. Renunciation and regret were all very well for the young, and people in the long dreary romantic DVDs she’d been reduced to watching, but in real life . . .

‘I never stopped loving you, you know.’

This was more like it. She didn’t turn round, carried on looking at the view, half expecting golden evening sunlight to break through the clouds. An agreeable shudder made her roll her shoulders.

‘Andy,’ she said, finally turning, nursing her glass, ‘before I say anything else, there are one or two things that I have to get off my chest.’

‘Here we go.’

‘Don’t worry. I’m not going to cause a scene.’

He looked devastated.

‘And I’m not going to walk out on you, either.’

He still looked crushed.

‘And I think it’s only fair to tell you, Andy, that I have every intention of getting back together with you as soon as is humanly possible.’

He made a move towards her, but she held up a hand.

‘But first, let me have my say. You’ll probably think me an angry old woman, and I might very well put you off . . .’

‘I doubt that.’

‘You say you love me, Andy. That you never stopped loving me. But if that’s true, why did you do it? Why all the affairs and the lies? Why did you have to cause me so much pain?’

The last words came out in a jumble, her voice rough, as if she’d voided something poisonous. She felt better for it. Andy looked worse.

‘I never meant to hurt you.’

This time she moved towards him, to offer comfort; it was Andy who kept his distance.

‘The honest answer, Chris, is that I don’t know. Sex was a habit I got into. I told myself that it had nothing to do with “us”, with our lives together and the family and the kids. But it was so easy, when I was away on a job or something, and there were always women . . .’

‘And you just couldn’t say no.’

‘I’m not proud of it.’

‘You must have enjoyed it.’

‘What do you want me to say, Chris?’

‘I don’t know. I suppose I just want to hear it.’

‘Yes, I enjoyed it. It was like a little bit of freedom, a little thing that was mine, nobody else’s. I didn’t have to share it, I didn’t have to think about other people’s feelings.’

‘Clearly not.’

‘And, you know, the more you do something the easier it becomes to ignore your conscience.’

She was about to say something, but thought better of it.