‘We should keep an eye on her anyway,’ Abi went on. ‘There’s no point putting her on the spot – you know how she is. If I’d said anything about it, she’d just have gotten all defensive and prickly and buried the truth of her feelings even deeper.’

‘So why are you telling me?’ he asked, although he knew the reason. Often, he felt he was used as a conduit between his wife and Beth, some attendant third party to their mother–daughter communication difficulties.

‘In case you’d noticed something too.’

‘Right.’

‘Well? Have you?’ She was standing now, fully dressed, a clutch bag in one hand. She’d made some effort, he could see, and it shocked him to discover that he felt not the slightest stirring of attraction for her in that moment.

‘No, I haven’t.’

He went back to buttoning his shirt, but he could feel her still watching him. Her blitheness had evaporated and when she spoke there was tension in her tone; something of his irritation had transferred to her.

‘You are all right about this, aren’t you?’

‘About what?’

‘My promotion.’

‘Sure. It’s great news.’ But he kept his voice deliberately flat, and sensing her waiting, he added: ‘I just wish you’d asked me first before accepting it, that’s all.’

Even as he spoke, he knew the incendiary effect it would have.

‘Asked you?’ The words came from her mouth dripping with disgust. ‘It’s the twenty-first century, Mark. I don’t need to ask your permission to accept the promotion that I have worked my ass off to get – that I deserve.’

‘I’m not saying you needed my permission. And I’m not suggesting you don’t deserve it—’

‘Then what?’

He shook his head, angry at himself for getting drawn into this dispute when he would have preferred more time to think things through. But they were already in the middle of it. There was nothing to be gained from backing down.

‘Well, have you thought about how it’s going to affect me?’ he put to her.

‘Of course I have.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes!’ She had one hand on her hip and her face bore a look of genuine confusion. ‘Why are you acting like this? Why can’t you be happy for me? Why can’t you be proud of me?’

‘I am proud of you. I just wish you’d discussed it with me first instead of hiding it from me until you were sure it was in the bag and then presenting it as a fait accompli.’

‘I wanted to surprise you,’ she told him, unconvincingly. ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’

She dropped her bag on the bed and sat down, shaking her head, nonplussed and annoyed.

‘This promotion,’ he continued, ‘it’s going to mean longer hours and more travel, right?’

‘Probably,’ she answered without looking at him.