She’s fallen asleep on the sofa when Rob gets home, the meal she’s prepared for them lying cold in the oven. She opens her eyes and he’s sitting beside her, watching her.

‘I just got back,’ he says. ‘Found you asleep here.’

‘Sorry, I must have just dozed off.’ She pulls herself up. ‘I only sat down for a minute. Well, that was the plan at least.’

‘What’s happened to the walls?’ Rob asks.

‘Oh, I repainted them. I didn’t like the colour.’ She says this casually, even though they both know that what underlies her action is something serious.

‘But we’ve only just done it.’

She may as well come out with it; this is one thing, at least, she can be honest about, despite what it may lead Rob to think. ‘It reminded me of Sienna. Everywhere I went down here just felt like she was here. Her stamp is everywhere, and after the way she’s been acting, I just needed her out of this house.’

Rob frowns. ‘That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it? She’s just worried about Greg.’ Abby knows this, hates herself for saying it all, but she can’t tell Rob the truth: that she fears Sienna.

‘Since when do you care about the décor?’ She’s defensive now, even though she’s on shaky ground.

Rob stares at her. ‘You’re right,’ he says. ‘Whatever you want is fine. It’s only paint, isn’t it?’

‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ she insists. ‘It’s your house too, so it’s not just up to me how we decorate it. It’s just that you’ve never cared before.’

His eyes fix on the walls, and he stays silent.

‘That’s all I’ve done, Rob. I haven’t changed anything else.’ Not yet at least. ‘Anyway, tell me about Portugal.’

‘Can we catch up on that tomorrow? I couldn’t get much work done with Mum wanting to fill every minute with quality time, so I have a huge backlog. I’ll just go up and see what I can get done before tomorrow.’

‘Okay. I’ll bring your dinner up.’

‘Not hungry actually. Sorry. I was starving so grabbed a burger at the airport.’

She watches him head upstairs. Even though he didn’t say it, she knows that something is very wrong.

It’s after midnight when he comes to bed, climbing in beside her. She’s not asleep yet but is turned on her side with her eyes closed. She could stay like this, and he’d never know she’s awake; it’s clear from the amount of noise he’s making that he’s hoping to wake her, and she senses that if they talk now, the outcome won’t be good for either of them.

‘I’ve been thinking about Greg,’ he says.