Some weeks later, Mollie showed up at his flat. Without saying anything, she opened all the windows wide, found a broom and dishcloth, and started meticulously cleaning the place. He watched her from the sofa, a detached part of his brain noticing how hard she had to scour the grime. It hadn’t taken long to get ingrained. She drank from the tap, lapping like a cat, but otherwise took no breaks until the place was set to rights, grunting a little when she had to bend or stretch. He shouldn’t let a pregnant woman pick up after him, he thought, but couldn’t make himself move. She didn’t ask him where anything belonged, and he wouldn’t have known anyway. It was all Siew Li’s system.

Three hours after she’d arrived, she flopped down next to him. He wondered if he should thank her, or if she was angry with him. This isn’t fair, he thought. I’m the one left behind.

“This won’t do,” she finally said. He turned to look at her, but no response seemed possible. “Did you have dinner?”

“I don’t know. Probably not.”

She rolled her eyes, stomped into the kitchen, and came back with a slice of white bread thickly spread with strawberry jam, right up to the edges. “Eat.”

He took a cautious bite. She’d toasted the bread just a little, so it had a faint crunch but remained pale. It was delicious. He was famished, he realised. While he chewed, she went back to the kitchen to get him a glass of water.

“What’s going to happen?” He didn’t realise he’d said anything till, belatedly, he heard the words leave his mouth.

“I can’t tell you that.” Mollie smoothed her skirt. “Maybe she’ll come back, or maybe she won’t be able to. Siew Li’s a good person. She didn’t look like she planned to leave with Lina. Didn’t even take anything with her. Something must have happened, suddenly. She must have had her reasons. I don’t think we ever knew her, really.”

“Obviously I did, I think I knew my own wife.”

“This isn’t school. You don’t need to have all the answers.”

He sank back against the cushions. She took his empty plate and glass into the kitchen, came back and stood staring at him from across the coffee table.

“I’m not here to say the obvious things. You’ve already heard them from Ma and Dad. Be strong for the children. You’ll find someone else. I mean, it’s all true, sort of, but I know it’s not helpful. And maybe you won’t find someone else.”

“Thanks, thanks.”

“Well, you might not want anyone else, I don’t know. If Barnaby got run over by a bus tomorrow—he might, he’s terrible at crossing roads—I’d be sad, but I’d keep going. For Stella.”

“Stella?”

“The baby. It’s a girl; I’ve decided. I’d probably marry another guy eventually, because they’re useful to have around, but in the meantime I’d just keep going.”

“So I should just keep going? Excellent advice.”