‘It would be a damn sight easier to swallow if you could be a bit less smug.’ The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. ‘And can we please put to bed this notion of a so-called “agreement”? When the hell was it decided that my career should take a backseat to yours? Because I don’t ever remember us sitting down having that conversation. You just ploughed ahead with your career and assumed I’d row in behind you. But that’s you all over, Abi. Unilateral decision-making to suit your own needs, expecting the rest of us to just sail along behind you.’

‘That line sounds rehearsed,’ she remarked, and he felt his cheeks redden. It was unnerving the way she could do this: hold up a mirror to expose his petty failings.

‘I’m not going to pretend this isn’t something I’ve thought a lot about,’ he began, but before he could go on, Abi let out a shriek of impatience and fury.

‘God! That is just so like you! Thinking about it but not talking about it! You sit in your little man-cave, conducting these arguments in your head while you allow years to pass before actually opening your mouth to tell me what you’re feeling! Don’t you see how unhealthy that is?’

‘What difference would it even make? Are you honestly trying to tell me you’d alter your behaviour if I was more open about my unhappiness?’

Her eyes flared. ‘You know, I’m really sick of this notion of yours that somehow I am to blame for your unhappiness. As if your miserable childhood is my fault. Because that’s what it all stems from, Mark – your insecurity, your obsession with our house, with keeping up with the neighbours—’

‘I am not obsessed with the house!’

‘Oh, please! If it wasn’t for the house, I think you’d have left me already—’

‘If it weren’t for the girls, I’d have left you!’ he snapped, the words flying out of his mouth before he thought to check them.

She stared at him, her breath caught, and he felt his own heart kick out in sudden fear.

‘What are you saying?’ she asked, half-laughing but it was a nervous laugh.

Had he meant to say that? Even now, he couldn’t be sure.

An image came to him then – the two of them, standing together on a precipice, peering over the edge, wondering which one of them was going to jump first. Vast tufts of cloud obscuring the drop, but the temptation was there. Go on. Go on.

Words came into his head. A notion of how to wound her. The threat pulsing in his temples.

‘I’m not going to leave you,’ he said quietly.

Shakily, she answered: ‘Well, thank God for that—’

‘—until Beth’s finished school,’ he added quickly.