It was a lunchtime flight, and Mark had agreed to pick her up from the school mid-morning and go from there to the airport. The girls would say their goodbyes on the school grounds – better that way, he thought, than a tearful scene in the departures lounge, all the drama of wheelie bags and closing gates, the long, lonely drive home. But then he remembered what Beth had to face that morning. In all the mess of their weekend, he had forgotten about the crisis at the school – the public statement of mea culpa that Bracken had demanded. And he realized that Beth’s pallor, the tightness of her face, was attributable not to imminent loss, but to fear.

‘Listen, love,’ he said in the hall, as she was putting on her coat. ‘You don’t have to do this. I know your mum put her foot down the other day about taking responsibility for your actions, but after what’s happened this weekend, no one expects you to go through that.’

She didn’t say anything, didn’t look at him. Just went on silently buttoning her coat.

‘I can ring the school,’ he continued, ‘I’ll tell the principal what happened. She’ll understand, Beth.’

‘It’s fine,’ she told him quietly, then reached down for her schoolbag and went to wait by the car.

But Mark was worried.

Throughout the drive to school, he kept glancing in the rear-view mirror, catching glimpses of Beth’s face in profile as she stared out the window, that blank, closed expression persisting. Corinne was also silent, and he noticed the way they didn’t look at each other, didn’t sit close together or hold hands as they once might have done.

When he drew up alongside the school gate, he turned and said:

‘I’ll be back for you, Corinne, at ten thirty, okay? I’ll pick you up here.’

She nodded and got out. He looked at Beth.

‘It’s not too late, you know, sweetheart. If you don’t want to do this, just say the word. I can go in right now and talk to Mrs Bracken.’

She stared at him, and it was a long look full of wavering, he thought. And then she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek close to his mouth, and he felt the enervating charge of that kiss.

Later, this would come back to him, the solemnity of her look, the finality of that kiss.

‘Bye, Dad,’ she said, and then she was gone.

Abi rang the office and told them she’d be working from home that day. She cancelled her meetings except for one critical lunchtime face-to-face which she rearranged to conduct via video call instead. After checking her emails and setting these arrangements in place, she closed her laptop and went upstairs, gently knocking on Eva’s door before letting herself in.

Eva was lying on her side, fully clothed, facing the wall.