The tinny radio in the corner of the room plays pop songs as Stephen and I fall into companionable silence. The first order form I pick up takes me for ever to turn into an invoice because I can’t remember my password for the computer or which buttons to click to make the accounting software add everything up. But then, like riding a bike, it becomes instinctive and I complete invoice after invoice and the fraught thoughts that have been whizzing around my brain like angry bees grow silent.

‘Another coffee?’ Stephen asks and I’m surprised when I look at the clock in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen. Half an hour has passed since I turned on the computer.

‘Please.’

Stephen cracks his knuckles, stands up and crosses the room to turn on the kettle. It bubbles and then whistles as he unwraps a packet of biscuits. Out of the corner of my eye I watch him put two into his mouth in one go. He chews quickly, crumbs falling from his lips in his haste to eat them.

‘Any news after the appeal?’ he asks as he turns his back to pour the boiling water into two mugs.

‘No, not yet.’

He says nothing. The spoon clanks against the mugs as he stirs the coffee. His hand shakes when he adds the sugar and half of it ends up on the countertop. Is he uncomfortable with me back in the office? Is that why he seems so twitchy? Or is it because we’re talking about Billy?