The boy was dead. In the moments while they had waited for the ambulance to arrive – agonizingly long, although when he checked his watch it was only five minutes – Mark had seen the boy’s life slip away. A small lapse in the panic, a moment of quiet, and then the little body took on a new quality of stillness, just as the ambulance heaved into view, and Mark knew – he just knew. He didn’t think he would ever forget the way Becca Campbell pleaded for her son’s life – as if the paramedics had it in their gift to bring the boy back from the dead. Maybe they did on some occasions, but not this one. By the time they lifted him inside the ambulance, Becca was hysterical. When Ross reached out to touch her, she turned on him, ferocious, batting him away, and Mark, who had never really thought much of his neighbour, felt a rush of pity for him. Becca had gone alone in the ambulance, and Abi had immediately offered to bring Ross, who had wordlessly accepted. A numbness to the man, like the lifeblood had been drained from him, staring ahead zombie-like as Abi had started the car and pulled off.

Mark realized, after he stepped back inside his own house, how cold he was. Shivering. The sweat on his body after the bike ride had cooled, and now he was freezing. He needed to shower, but he needed a drink first, to calm his ragged nerves. In the kitchen, the whiskey was already on the counter, and he stared at it, confused, until Beth said: ‘For Eva. She was in shock.’ Adding: ‘It was Corinne’s idea.’

He hadn’t seen her there, sitting in the snug – he hadn’t even realized she’d returned home. She looked small and pale, her hair tousled as if from sleep, and for just a moment, she was his little girl again, sitting quietly in her nightie at the breakfast table, diligently scraping out her cereal bowl in the early-morning light before school.

‘Beth,’ he said, his heart filling a little just at the sight of her.

‘Is Jo dead?’

He exhaled. ‘Yes, love. He is.’

She said nothing and he came towards her, putting his hand to the back of her neck, squeezing it gently.

‘It was nobody’s fault. Just a horribly tragic accident.’

He wondered how the Campbells would live with it. How could any parent carry on after such a thing? He remembered again Becca’s pleading – the desperation in it – and was suddenly overcome.

‘Beth?’ he said, his voice wobbling a little. ‘Give your old dad a hug, will you?’

Dutifully, she got to her feet, and he felt her arms go around him as he clasped her against his chest. He just needed to feel her close to him, to know that she was his child and she was alive and protected.