He dropped her off at their usual spot and she stood watching until the tail lights of the Land Rover disappeared around the corner. As she walked home, she thought about the weekend that was over now, and wondered how much these snatched hours together meant to him. Did they register at all, or would his thoughts automatically tilt in the direction of his family: afternoons in the park throwing a ball with Jo, or some fortieth birthday party he and Becca had attended? Eva remembered them in their Gatsby costumes, pictured them sipping from champagne saucers, dancing the Charleston in some bar done up like a speakeasy. It seemed so grown-up and sophisticated, a far cry from the parties she went to: R&B thumping through speakers, rum and Coke in paper cups, always some girl crying or puking, bodies dry-humping on the stairs.

As she reached her driveway, she cast a glance at the Campbells’ house and saw the light on upstairs in their bedroom. Briefly, she imagined Becca up there reading or watching Netflix, unaware that for the past few hours her husband and her babysitter were making love in a car up the Dublin Mountains. The thought came to her now that she, Eva, could march right up and lean on the Campbells’ bell and when Becca opened the door, naked surprise on her face, Eva could tell her everything. About Ross, about where they’d been and what they’d done. She could stand there and tell that woman that her husband’s semen was, at that very moment, trickling from Eva’s body, dampening the cotton of her underwear.

The possibility made her feel powerful, but it also frightened her as she pushed through her own front door, closing it softly behind her. The hall was dark and quiet, and she hurried up the stairs, carrying the thought in her head. It filled her so completely that she almost didn’t notice the figure lying on her bed, until the shadow moved in the darkness and Eva found herself jumping in fright.

‘What are you doing in here?’ she snapped, fear making her aggressive.

‘Where have you been?’ The voice cool and low and very calm.

‘None of your fucking business.’

Light from outside reflected in the shine of Corinne’s eye. She blinked once.

‘You were with him. The neighbour.’

‘Get out of my fucking room!’

‘Quiet, Eva. We don’t want your parents to wake up, do we?’

It was there in the inflection of her voice, the suggestion of a smirk, the latent threat.

‘It’s late. I’m tired,’ Eva said, keeping her tone level but firm. ‘Why don’t you go back to your room. Go talk to Beth.’

‘I don’t want to talk to Beth. I want to talk to you.’

‘I’ve got nothing to say to you.’