‘I’d felt immediately ashamed,’ he told Corinne now as he gave his account of that evening. ‘There I was, all excited about my new improved home, and there was Melissa, bursting my bubble with her loneliness, her future that seemed blighted by paralysis and decay.’ The injustice had been stark.

‘We talked about modifications to the house to accommodate her disability – a stair-lift, ramps and widening of doorways for wheelchair access, that sort of thing. I tried to get her to consider moving to more suitable accommodation, but she wouldn’t countenance leaving her garden.’

The following morning, he’d made arrangements for his builder to quote for the work that Melissa’s house required, but a few days later, Abi had called over to Beaufield Court and found Melissa in her room. Empty pill bottles on the bedside locker, the body cold.

‘What I felt – if I’m really honest,’ Mark told Corinne, ‘was not sorrow or shock. I felt trapped. I was in my forties and still dealing with my oddball family. It was like no matter what I did, no matter how far I moved on, moved up, moved away, I would always be that kid in the weird family in that fucking house …’ His voice petered out.

She was fixing him with an expression of complete absorption, totally focused on what he was saying. Her hoodie was pulled down over grey leggings and he saw that she was barefoot, a tiny silver ring clasped around the second toe of her left foot. So much about Corinne seemed awkward-fitting, out-of-shape, but he observed now how neat her feet were – pretty, in fact, if feet could be called such a thing.

‘Why am I even telling you all this?’ he said quickly, lowering his head.

‘You miss her,’ she stated plainly, and he felt – for the first time since Melissa had died – the hammer-blow of loss.

A hard lump filled his throat, and he blinked away the tears. He felt her hand rest on the back of his neck, and almost without thinking, he reached out and touched her bare foot, felt the warm softness of her skin beneath his touch.

His hand rested there for just a moment. And then, with a sudden flash of recognition at how inappropriate this was, he pulled it away and got to his feet. Flustered with embarrassment, he listened for the hum of the shower and heard only silence from upstairs, followed by the loud closing of the front door, footsteps in the hall.

‘You should go,’ he said to Corinne, aware of her sitting there staring up at him, and he unable to meet her gaze.

‘Please,’ he said, and the door opened just as she stood, so that when Abi came into the room, she saw Mark standing there staring at the floor, scratching the back of his neck, and Corinne alongside him, her face flushed with confusion, a stunned look about her.