Ask her, Stephen mouths as he lurches forward in his seat. I wave him away.

‘He seems upset about an argument you’ve had recently. He said you’ve moved out.’

‘Yes, I have. I don’t know what he’s told you, Claire, but I’ve had enough. A day doesn’t go by when he doesn’t have a drink and he’s getting worse. He pissed in the wardrobe when he came home from the pub the other night and I’m pretty sure he’s been drinking at work.’

I look at Stephen, with his flushed cheeks, puffy face and enormous gut, and it all makes sense – the reason his hands shook when he was making the coffee, why he seemed so jittery when I walked into the office. He had the DTs. God only knows if there was water or vodka in the bottle on his desk.

‘I didn’t know that, Caroline.’

‘No, well, you wouldn’t. You don’t have to live with him.’

Please, Stephen mouths. ‘Please.’

I lower my gaze but I can still feel his eyes boring into the top of my head. ‘What if he agreed to go to AA or something? Or couple’s counselling?’

‘I don’t know, Claire.’ There’s something in the way she sighs that reminds me of myself. She’s exhausted. She can’t take any more.

‘I don’t know if it’s us not being able to have kids, or work, or Billy going missing,’ she says after a pause, ‘but he needs to sort himself out. I can’t keep living like this, not knowing where he is or what he’s doing. I’ve had enough of being woken up when he stumbles into the bedroom at all hours of the night. Why can’t he be more like Mark? You don’t see him falling apart, do you?’

We’re all falling apart, I think, but not all of us show it.

As the barman places a pint of lager on the table I twist round in my chair, so Stephen can’t see my lips, and lower my voice. ‘Do you still love him?’

Caroline hesitates. ‘I don’t know. He’s not the same man I married. He’s changed, and not for the better. I think I’d be happier on my own.’

‘It’s not too late. He can change.’ I look back at Stephen and he nods. ‘He still loves you.’

I don’t know why I’m acting as a marriage counsellor for a man who has insulted my husband, criticized my son’s girlfriend and admitted to goading one of my son’s into punching his brother. It goes beyond getting answers from Stephen. Maybe I’m tired of being surrounded by unhappiness. Maybe I see shades of myself in Caroline. Or maybe I can relate to their situation. They lost a child. They’re still grieving.