‘You probably didn’t. But tell me this: do you now wish it hadn’t happened? If you could undo it, would you?’ He faltered and she stared at him. ‘You don’t, do you? You fucking don’t.’ In a corner of her mind she noted how much she was swearing nowadays; like a brawler in the navy, she would suddenly sling out salty obscenities, unrecognizably loud-voiced and sneeringly crude.

‘I don’t know,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I don’t know anything.’

‘Because you’re in love with her.’

‘Irene.’

‘You’re in love with her.’

‘Please don’t.’

‘Why? Because you don’t want to hurt me? Is that it? Are you in love with her?’

‘All right then. Yes.’

‘Have you talked to her since you told me?’ He was silent. ‘You have then. She’s waiting, is she? Waiting to find out what you’re going to do?’

‘Yes.’ His voice was very low, whipped away by the wind.

‘I bet. Have you seen her?’

‘No. Of course not. You know I’ve been at home. With you and the children.’

‘Are you going to see her?’

‘I don’t know – oh God, Irene, I can’t – I can’t just not see her again. You don’t understand. It’s not just a fling.’ He looked at her white, set face. ‘Oh hell,’ he said. ‘What have I done?’

‘You mean see her, as in have sex with her?’

He flinched and didn’t answer.

‘So you’re saying you can’t promise not to have sex with her again?’

‘For fuck’s sake, don’t be so bloody functional! Can’t you see I’m in torment?’

‘Torment,’ said Irene softly. She walked off again, her face against the wind. She wished the wind would blow harder, blow everything out of her, scour and empty her. Adrian gazed hopelessly after her, then hurried to catch up.

‘Look,’ he said. ‘Listen. I know what I’ve done. And I don’t want to lose you. I couldn’t bear that.’

‘You already have.’

‘What?’

‘You’ve already lost me,’ she said. ‘I’m an absolutist, remember? I’m not going to hang around waiting for things to die down between you, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

‘No, of course not.’

‘What then?’

‘Just give me a bit of time.’

Her lip curled. ‘To choose, you mean? Between me and her?’

‘Irene, please. Don’t do this. Think of the girls.’

‘You’ve no right to say that!’

‘I know, I know. But they shouldn’t suffer for what we’ve done.’

She lifted up one hand to protest against that ‘we’ then dropped it again.

‘You haven’t asked me,’ she said.

‘What?’

‘You haven’t even asked me if I still want you.’

‘I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Well?’