Melissa puts her fork down. She’d looked forward to showing Paris to Izzy herself for the very first time. She’d planned it out: they’d go to the Eiffel Tower first then the Louvre; the next day there would be time to explore Montmartre and, after that, maybe clothes shopping from little boutiques.

“What a good idea,” she makes herself reply. “Izzy will love that.”

He comes out of his daughter’s bedroom an hour later, smiling to himself. He halts when he sees her hovering outside on the landing. “She’s shown me what she did today. She’s tired now. Best leave her be, my love.”

She hesitates, disappointed. She had wanted to see the work, put her cheek against her daughter’s, kiss her good night. She daren’t insist.

“I’ll take the day off tomorrow.” He takes her arm very gently; his breath in her ear makes her shiver. “We might go to the sea.”

She spends half an hour in the gym before bed, aware of Paul’s voice murmuring in the kitchen next door, Lina’s quieter answering one; hopefully he’s thanking her for supper and not ordering her about. He’s asleep by the time she’s finished on the treadmill. She slides in beside him and lies still, keeping her breathing very quiet, but he wakes and reaches for her anyway. He turns on the light and runs his hands over her body, her stomach and thighs, as if assessing her flesh. Her muscles tense. He likes women slender, very slender. She closes her eyes. After a while he asks her to turn on her face. She keeps very quiet; they mustn’t disturb Izzy, she’s probably asleep. It’s over quite quickly. He falls asleep but she lies awake in the dark, tears sliding from her eyes. Tomorrow there’ll be waves and a beach, she doesn’t care which one. She’ll watch Paul and Izzy playing together, Paul holding his daughter close, lifting her over the waves in his arms like a baby while she waits on the shore. He’d do anything for Izzy, nothing else matters. The father-daughter bond she never had, that’s the important thing. Izzy’s lucky, Paul adores her. Nothing must get in the way, least of all her.

The house is quiet when she wakes the next morning, though it’s past nine o’clock. The sky is cloudless, already bright. She overslept. Paul must be loading the car, Izzy showering. She dresses quickly, winding a soft blue scarf around her neck, blue for the sea and the sky. The scarf is new and patterned with little flowers. Paul prefers block colors, but she’d been unable to resist. Patterns on a scarf don’t matter, they won’t count, surely.

In the kitchen Lina is spooning cat food into a bowl while the kitten winds around her long skirt, purring loudly. Lina looks tired, there are shadows beneath her dark eyes; she might like a break from her routine.

“We’re going to the sea today, Lina,” Melissa says cheerfully. “Why don’t you come with us?”