When they were living in Manchester, he’d considered surprising Lexie with a long weekend trip to St Petersburg. It had been the final stop on their honeymoon, but they’d run out of energy and spent the last day in bed instead of at the Hermitage Museum. Through sheer determination, they’d both managed to get three weeks off work for their honeymoon. They began by watching the sunset over the Aegean Sea from a hilltop in Santorini before continuing on to Turkey to see the Roman ruins in Ephesus, the Byzantine grandeur of Aya Sofya and the underground cities of Cappadocia. Marty’s previous travels had involved skiing or ticking off the main city sights around a paediatric conference. On their honeymoon, Lexie told him stories of ancient times, great empires, epic battles and impressive constructions. She’d studied these empires in her degree and, while she’d been to Pompeii and the Great Wall of China, she’d never made it to Turkey.

In a hot-air balloon floating over the stone houses of Göreme, they had discussed bringing their future children back here to see the strange, magical villages built into the rock.

‘We’ll give our children a love of travel and history and art,’ Lexie had declared.

‘And science and medicine?’

‘I guess they’ll have to pay for the travel somehow. It’s harder on an artist’s meagre wage.’

‘But not on a curator’s salary.’ He winked at her. ‘Shall we celebrate your pay rise again tonight?’

‘Assistant curator,’ she reminded him. ‘Okay, the raki and mezze are on me tonight. At least I can afford to pay for dinner in Turkey!’

Although they were married now, their finances were still separate and slightly complicated. Her salary was much lower but his had to cover child support for Victoria and the mortgage on the old family home, which still hadn’t been sold. His ex-wife was no longer living there but she’d wanted to keep it as an investment and sell it at the right time. Marty felt the right time was now. At the thought of creating a new family home, he pulled Lexie into a tight hug.

‘We’re going to have gorgeous children.’ He kissed her nose. ‘Smart, fun and beautiful—just like you.’

Marty’s mobile rang as he was leaving the gents, his mind already on the next consultation. He frowned at Lexie’s name on the screen. She rarely called him at work; knew he was too busy. Had Bella got sand or water inside her cast? Lexie had been asking him about it this morning. In fact, it was the first time she’d spoken more than three sentences to him since the incident.

‘Hi, sweetheart,’ he said quickly into the phone.

‘Uh, no, sorry—it’s not Lexie. This is, um, Imogen from the playgroup.’