‘Daddy, I’m bleeding,’ whimpered Aggie.

‘Jesus. What happened? Is she OK?’

‘She was trying to shave.’

‘Jesus.’ He squatted down beside them and put his hand on Aggie’s head. There was even blood sculpting the ends of her hair into stiff tendrils. ‘Does she need a doctor?’

‘No. It’s quite shallow.’

‘Thank God for that.’

‘You left your razor out.’

For a moment, his face went stonily defensive. He stood up.

‘So it’s my fault, is it?’

‘I didn’t say that. I said, your razor. Never mind that now.’

‘Sorry,’ he said through clenched teeth.

‘Oh well. It was an accident,’ said Irene, then ruined it by adding, ‘I suppose.’ She ignored Adrian’s grimace, and held Aggie closer to disguise her own trembling and crumpled up a new bundle of tissues to stem the continuing flow. ‘One of those things,’ she said sternly, occupying the entire moral high ground.

‘Sorry, Aggie my darling.’ Adrian stooped down and caressed her and she curled up between them, sniffing and triumphant. ‘What a brave girl you are.’

‘Isn’t she?’

‘You’ve got blood all over your new top; it’ll wash out, won’t it? Anyway, you’ll have to put something else on.’

‘I think I’d prefer to stay here now.’

‘Not go?’

‘I wouldn’t feel right.’

‘We can wait until it stops bleeding – you said yourself that the cuts were shallow. You’ll be OK with Carol, won’t you, Aggie?’

‘Don’t go, Mummy,’ said Aggie, working herself up to fresh sobs. ‘Don’t go!’

‘I don’t mind, honestly,’ said Irene. ‘I’d quite like a floppy evening with the kids. It’s been a long day. You go. Send my apologies to Karen – say I’ll ring her tomorrow. And there’s a little present to take, on the table.’

‘This is stupid and unnecessary. And anyway, if anyone’s staying, it should be me. It was my fault.’

‘No. I want to.’

‘Stay, Mummy! Don’t want Carol.’

‘And Karen’s your friend more than mine. I’m staying.’

‘Please, Adrian, just go.’

‘You hardly ever go out.’

‘It’d feel wrong.’

‘You’re proving a point here.’

‘No! I’m not being a martyr, honestly. I want to stay.’

‘Why would it feel wrong for you but not for me? If you won’t go, then I’ll stay too.’

‘Don’t be daft. What would be the point of that?’

Adrian knew Frankie, Karen’s sister, would be there. He’d been thinking about Frankie as he’d shaved with extra care, put on his dull-pink shirt and gargled with mouthwash, stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, trying to see himself the way a stranger would.

‘Please, Irene,’ he said urgently. ‘Please.’

‘Go on with you. Have a good time.’