‘I got a takeaway,’ she said, nodding towards the microwave that had pinged several minutes before. She rested a hand on his arm as she passed him, relieved when he didn’t brush it off. Removing the containers, she carried them to the table, returning for plates and cutlery. As usual, when she bought a takeaway she’d ordered far too much. She put spoons beside the containers and sat.

Jack used the same spoon to take a little from each container. If he noticed she was drinking, an occurrence so rare as to be worthy of some comment, he didn’t say anything. She decided not to have any more, taking a bottle of mineral water from the fridge instead. It was safer to have her wits about her. Conversation was stilted, laboured, any comments she made met with a monosyllabic response. Finally, she gave up trying, and concentrated on her food, pushing it around the plate with little pleasure. She’d chosen a bad combination; either that or she’d completely lost her appetite. After a few mouthfuls, she dropped her fork and pushed the plate away.

Looking across the table, she realised Jack hadn’t eaten anything. He hadn’t even picked up his fork, sitting with his eyes on the food as if he weren’t seeing it. ‘Jack,’ she said gently. He didn’t look up. She tried again, worried now, her voice taking on an edge. ‘Jack?’

He looked up slowly, his eyes dull.

‘I’m worried about you,’ she said, reaching a hand towards him.

He managed to drag his lips into a semblance of a smile. ‘Don’t be,’ he said, ‘it’s nothing. Just work problems.’

What kind of work problems? She wanted to ask but she knew that was as much as he was going to tell her. ‘Why don’t you leave?’ she said, grasping and squeezing his forearm. ‘Hand in your notice and get something else? We’d survive on my salary until you did, you could say you want to leave immediately.’

‘Survive on your salary?’ He met her eyes, his mouth twisting. ‘I don’t think so, there are bills, debts.’

She forced a laugh. ‘We’re okay. The mortgage is paid off. Short-term, we’d be fine.’ She pressed his arm again. ‘We could cut back a little. Luckily, the kids’ university fees are paid. At least say you’ll think about it.’

‘I’ll think about it.’

But she noticed, this time, his eyes didn’t meet hers.

After dinner, he excused himself, saying he had some work to do. It wasn’t unusual, his job far more demanding than hers. There were plenty of opportunities for someone as experienced as he was, he’d easily find something else. She wished he’d give leaving some serious consideration.