‘Who’s here, Annie?’

I was torn between upholding the lie and telling the truth.

‘It’s a man, isn’t it? Have you got a man here?’ He spun around and for a second I thought he was going to sprint upstairs. ‘Have you got a man in our bed?’

Carol stirred, agitated by the rise in his voice. I shook my head, trying to settle on a response.

‘You’ve got a man in our bed? Annie. Come on. No …’

His crying gave way to great big gulping sobs. Carol started to yap, distressed at his distress.

‘Annie …’ he kept saying, his head down on the counter now. ‘Annie …’

I walked around to him and reached out to rub his back, but he recoiled at my touch.

‘No,’ he said. ‘Don’t.’

He braced himself and slowed his breath.

Without looking up he stood upright again.

‘This is unbelievable,’ he said to the kitchen taps. He struck his palm against the island with such force I wasn’t sure if his hand would break or the countertop. The outburst made me flinch, but he stormed back towards the front door before I could say anything.

I didn’t follow him. I listened in case he hit anything else, but all I heard was the door open, and then slam behind him. He was gone.

‘You okay …?’

Patrick lingered in the doorframe, backlit by the hallway light. His face was the kindest face I’d ever seen. He was a good man. A handsome, tanned, sexy good man.

‘I think it’s hit him that it’s over,’ I said. ‘Isn’t that odd? Only now does he get what he’s done. He blows up my life, and six weeks later he’s the one who is upset by it.’

Patrick wrapped his arms around me, and I inhaled the scent of sex on his body.

‘Come back to bed,’ he sighed into my neck, and I did.

Before we fell asleep, I asked him: ‘Do you think it’s bad that we’re together when the dust has barely settled with Alexander?’

Sleepily, he replied: ‘No. Don’t let him get in your head.’