Back when the kids were younger, it didn’t matter how draining her work was – her days were often filled with the upsetting consequences of abuse and violence, she was forced to process some very grim stuff – she couldn’t wait to get home. She’d hear the screams and laughter of her children from the garden gate and go indoors to discover Kev rushing up and down the stairs dressed as a pirate, his face slathered in make-up, chased by Denny and Angel… and Jake toddling behind.

The place would be like a war zone, there would be toys strewn all over the floor – action figures, lightsabers, dolls, those lethal bricks of Lego that buried themselves painfully into the soles of your feet – and pillows, throws and duvets hurled everywhere.

‘Help me,’ Kev screamed as he rushed past her, pretending to be terrified of the kids in pursuit. ‘I’m done for!’

Then he’d fall accidentally-on-purpose and disappear under a pile of giggling arms and legs.

Or, other times, she’d come home to find them all watching a film and discussing it. Going into great detail about a character’s superpowers, the science of floating poo in zero gravity, or the particular breed of a talking dog.

‘Everybody having fun?’ she’d ask and they’d glance up and sing, ‘Hello, Mum,’ happy to see her home, and then resume their discussion.

Or they’d all be playing a board game, or on a console together; doing a puzzle; kicking a football in the garden, Kev picking up the kids and swinging them off the ball so that all she saw were her children spinning in the air like helicopter rotors.

Kev was a good dad, Kev was a great dad, and the kids loved him.

And when the children had finally been packed off to bed, the two of them would sit together in the garden drinking a glass of wine and sharing a crafty fag, and Sasha would get off her chest all the upsetting things she had seen and heard that day. There were some details she could barely bring herself to utter out loud, it made her too upset, but he’d hold her hand across the table and listen. And when she’d told him about whatever cruel so-and-so she’d arrested that day, or about the nauseating violence against innocent people she’d had to deal with, she’d finally be able to unwind and they’d sit together, enjoying each other’s company long into the night.

She and Kev thanked their lucky stars that they had each other and three beautiful kids, and they honestly believed that nothing bad would ever – could ever – happen to any of them.

But that was when they had three children, not two.

And now Kev was… what exactly was going on with her husband?