Bella could tell Nina was grateful for his understanding. Sometimes it was quite difficult telling parents their child had received a bump or bruise, but Nick made it easy and his concern for the other child was admirable. She still harboured her suspicions about what had really happened, but it was no good passing on suspicions to parents; it only freaked them out for no reason and that never ended well.

‘Thanks, Miss Radcliffe. Have a good evening.’

Bella turned her attention back to her desk.

‘How are you doing?’ Nick asked, sticking his head into her classroom and taking her by surprise.

‘Me?’ She’d thought he’d go straight home, not stop in to speak to her. ‘Yes, I’m fine. Well, mostly. Most of the time.’ She fiddled with a stack of papers on her desk. ‘Especially at school. You know, while I’m here I don’t think about things.’ She was doing it again. Chuntering on like a lunatic, and even though her brain was telling her to stop, her treacherous mouth kept moving. ‘It’s the being at home – alone. That bit gets me. But I’m okay. Catching up with my reading actually.’

Nick was nodding but clearly terrified. ‘It can take some getting used to.’

He must think she was completely deranged or having a nervous breakdown. She certainly sounded like she was. ‘Anyway, I’m going to stop talking and let you get home. Have a lovely evening.’

Freddie tugged impatiently on his dad’s hand.

They disappeared into the dimming winter light, and she imagined them going home to a warm fire and a thrown-together dinner. She didn’t think Nick was one to plan a week’s worth of meals. He’d floundered so badly at first after Paige had left. She’d noticed Freddie had swapped from packed lunches to school dinners because Nick kept forgetting to pack him one and on the days he did remember, the random assortment of food was rather startling. As soon as she’d noticed, she’d started making extra sandwiches for her own lunch and giving them to Freddie on the sly. She hadn’t told Mrs White. As lovely as she was, she wouldn’t be in favour of something like that. She’d want her to speak to Nick and let him know, but it had been so clear that despite his own anguish he was doing the best he could, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. After a while, things had improved on their own and then Nick had made the switch to school dinners, so she hadn’t had to.