The delivery men were pleasant, apologetic for being late, and quite happy to bring the wardrobe up the stairs when asked. It came in two pieces for easy transport, an upper part for hanging clothes and a lower part with drawers. Within a few minutes, they had it in position and joined together.

Jodie checked her watch. She wanted to surprise Flynn by having all his belongings neatly put away by the time he arrived home. That gave her a little over two hours. No problem.

Most of his suits, on hangers, had been left lying on the spare bed. By the time they were hanging up there wasn’t a lot of space left on the rail but there were still the drawers below to fill. She took the clothes that had been jammed into the drawer of the dresser in handfuls and put them into the lower drawer. She was removing the last few items when she came upon a small plastic wallet and, naturally curious, opened it. She wasn’t expecting to find anything exciting: there were some credit card statements, a dental appointment card that made her smile, and right at the back, Flynn’s passport.

She still couldn’t believe he’d never used it and shook her head before pulling it out and flicking it open. Unsurprisingly, he took a good photo. Brown eyes looking straight into the camera, his expression serious, a hint of a smile lurking out of sight.

Then she read the rest.

The urge to vomit came suddenly. She dropped the passport, the wallet and the last items of clothing and rushed to the bathroom where she dry-retched, finally bringing up the small amount of water she’d drunk.

She slipped down to the bathroom floor, rested back against the side of the bath, and wiped a hand over her mouth.

It wasn’t possible. Flynn swore he’d never lie to her again. Yet there it was in a legal document, proof that he had. In the café, a lifetime ago, he’d said he was twenty-eight, the passport said he was twenty-four.

But unlike men, passports didn’t lie.

She was stunned into immobility by the ramifications of what she’d discovered, and was still sitting on the bathroom floor in the dim light of early evening when she heard the key in the door. It was followed by the double clunk as Flynn took one shoe off, then the other, dropping them in the corner of the hallway. He’d assume she’d be in the kitchen.

‘Jodie, where are you? Did it come? Oh wow, that’s fab.’

There was the creak of doors and the rattle of hangers before he called again. ‘Jodie?’

‘I’m here.’ Her voice was lost, just like her. ‘Here.’ A little louder, enough to bring him to the doorway, concern etching his face to see her sitting there.