I switch off the dryer to brush through Charlie’s hair. ‘Are you going anywhere nice?’

‘Yeah, I’m going to a party tonight… It’s me boyfriend’s party.’

‘Well… we have to have you looking your best then, don’t we?’ Lifting her hair at both sides, I show her what it would look like if I clipped it into an upstyle.

‘He’s sixteen… Kenny’s his name… d’ya wanna see him?’ Charlie seems more interested in flicking through the photos on her phone than in her new hairstyle.

I’m becoming concerned, my phone has beeped three times since Charlie sat down. I need to finish this head quickly and find out why Amber is being so insistent. I’ve told her a hundred times that I’ll answer her messages as soon as I get a chance.

‘This is him,’ Charlie says, lifting her phone into my view. I glance quickly.

‘Handsome,’ I say, barely noticing the picture.

‘Here’s another one of him.’

I look again. This time I don’t glance. This time I stare. The photograph shows a man with his arm around Charlie’s boyfriend’s shoulder. The young boy is holding a trophy. The man by his side is wearing a pink shirt, blue jeans and a smile that I would recognize anywhere.

Without asking, I take Charlie’s phone from her hand and hold it closer to my face.

‘Who is that?’ I ask, pointing to the man I know is my husband, his arm wrapped around Charlie’s boyfriend.

‘Oh, that’s Kenny’s dad.’

Chapter Two

That’s Kenny’s DAD.

That’s KENNY’S Dad.

THAT’S Kenny’s Dad.

No matter which way I hear it, the words slice like razorblades through my mind. How could this be? What is going on? Fear flushes through my body, blurring everything in sight. The phone drops. I hear a gentle bump as it lands on the tiled floor. Bouncing, bouncing, bouncing. Everything goes dark.

Now I’m staring at two pairs of shoes. My own silver block-heeled sandals from Penny’s and black-wedged, runner-style Louis Vuittons. They can only belong to one person, Megan. Inhaling deep breaths as per the instructions being delivered to me, I lift my head slowly.

‘Are you okay, Sal?’ Megan hands me a glass of water which I accept with shaking hands. The icy cold fluid sends a jolt through my body forcing me to face the reason I became weak. The photo. The boy. The dad. What is going on? Why am I sitting on a chair in the staffroom with my colleague trying to bring me back from the dead? What the hell happened? Did I really see my husband in that photo?

‘Is she okay?’ Sienna opens the door and sticks her head round.

Megan answers, ‘Yes, she’s fine, she’s fine, go back to work.’