Mandy turned to the stove, took the lid off the stew and gave it a stir. ‘That’s right.’

‘Why?’ He suppressed a belch. ‘What’s she want to do that for?’

‘She wanted to go home, Steve.’ She wished he’d leave it alone. ‘Louisa was homesick. She was never happy in this country. Couldn’t settle.’

Steve put the bottle down hard on the table. ‘What’s Louisa got to be homesick about? This country’s given her everything she could want.’ He gestured out at the yard, where the laundry was strung out, just visible in the fading light. ‘Lovely home for her family. Good standard of living. You’d think she’d be grateful.’

She heard the drink in his voice and turned back to the stove. One beer and he was half cut. She gripped the spoon she was stirring with, tried to be patient. He’d only been home five minutes.

‘It doesn’t work that way, Steve. It’s not as simple as that.’

‘Sounds to me like she doesn’t know when she’s lucky.’

‘She’s been through a hard time. She didn’t know if she could cope with the new baby, what with her family so far away.’ She tapped the spoon against the side of the pot and did her best not to think about cigarettes. She had one left in the pack. ‘Joe never understood any of that. What else could she do?’

There was a long pause. She could see his face without needing to look round at him. He was gawping at her, building up to an outburst.

‘A woman shouldn’t do that to a man!’ He thumped the table, rocking the orchids in the vase beside him. ‘She took his little girl! He came back to an empty house. Imagine that.’

‘I know.’ She spooned a portion of stew onto a plate. ‘I know what she did.’

‘She left him high and dry. Poor bastard.’ He looked down at his plate and picked up his fork. ‘Lovely girl like that. You wouldn’t get over her in a hurry.’

Mandy gave Steve a look, on principle, although she knew he thought Louisa attractive and didn’t mind it particularly. There’d be something wrong with him if he hadn’t noticed. She had legs up to her ears. And that thick, dark hair she swung about every time she moved. She was a beauty, in her awkward, British way. She pictured Joe’s hand gripping Louisa by the hair as he kissed her neck, her shoulders, her collarbone.

‘This is tasty, Mand. Very nice.’

She let go of the image. ‘There’s plenty more. Made enough for a few days.’

‘Did Louisa say anything to you before she left?’

He wasn’t going to drop the subject. The room was warm and close and she was irritable now from the thought of what she’d done, holding out on Joe like that when she could have told him right away. She took a cigarette out of the pack and lit it up.

‘Thought you were giving them up?’