She chose the grey T-shirt and carefully eased it from the pile. She held it up to her face and closed her eyes and smelt it deeply. He was there. On the wide stretch of yellow beach at Sennen Cove, his favourite beach. He walked ahead of her holding Tamsyn’s hand in his. Jago ran up in front of them, his bare feet making dents in the sand which shone silver in the low-set autumn sun, his hands clutching his red bucket and fishing net.

Angie watched this scene whilst breathing in the faintest hint of her husband from that day, his tanned arms, strong and smooth, fingers lightly holding his daughter, jeans rolled up to below the knee, brown legs, a dusting of golden hair, calves defined. She breathed in again and imagined bending down and placing her mouth against his calves, first one, then the other. Kissing upwards, over his jeans, lifting up his grey shirt to reveal his stomach, firm and taut, pushing her lips against him.

I miss you.

She went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth, slipped her nightie on over her head, then went back downstairs. She dragged the foldaway bed out and made it up, before closing the curtains and climbing beneath the duvet in a trance-like state.

She lay in bed and held the T-shirt in her hand, unable to keep her thoughts away from Gareth, his face coming in to kiss her, his tongue pushing between her lips.

His smell, so alien, so unfamiliar.

And yet the feel of another person caressing her, desiring her, was tantalising.

Her stomach filled with a sudden and overwhelming guilt. She squeezed her eyes shut and held Rob’s soft grey T-shirt against her face.

Wherever I am.

His words warm on her skin.

Wherever I am. However far away. I’ll always love you.

‘This far?’ she whispered into the T-shirt. ‘Did you mean this far?’

She pulled the duvet around her. It was their duvet. Too big for the single bed she now slept on, but she’d never use anything else. The duvet was one of the first things they’d bought together. Bought from a department store in Truro. Giggling with each other. Touching each other. Laughing at the disapproving looks from two old ladies pretending to look at china teacups whilst they tutted and sniffed.

This house, everything in it, each piece of furniture, each photograph, each mark, the carpets and chairs and table lamps. The two children. The old man. All of it wedded to her husband.

May I kiss you?

Gareth’s words rang in her head. She tried to ease Rob away. Thought about Gareth. Waited for his kiss. When it came it had surprised her. It was so different. Not unpleasant, just…

Different.

Rob reappeared. His eyes bored into hers. Hands either side of her face, readying himself to kiss her.