‘I thought you were going to empty the ashtrays. Maybe wash the dishes.’

‘I didn’t realise.’

‘Did you—?’ He stood up and walked quickly out of the room, his face white.

Mandy stood for a while in the living room, which looked too bright and bare, now she saw it through his eyes. It looked like no one lived here.

The house had fallen very quiet. She hesitantly checked each room and found Joe in the small bedroom at the end of the hall, sitting on a circular mat next to the bed. Two of Isla’s dolls lay abandoned on the carpet, half dressed. Digby bear was slumped in the small chair in the corner, just visible under a pile of laundry.

‘I didn’t clean the bedrooms,’ she said.

‘No.’ He rested his hand on the mattress. The top sheets were crumpled at the foot of the bed. Isla’s pyjamas were folded on the pillow. ‘Please don’t come in here, Mandy. Just leave this room, please.’

‘All right.’ She backed out into the hall. ‘I’d best be off, anyway. Steve’ll be home any time now.’

In the kitchen she left Joe’s spare key on the table. She was smarting with the shock of it, of how wrong she’d been. To think she’d half expected him to ask her to come back and clean again; maybe even cook a meal now and then. She untied the apron she’d borrowed and hung it back on its hook. God, the shame. She must have been out of her mind.

She was letting herself out through the back door when she heard Joe’s voice behind her.

‘Forgive me,’ he said.

She turned to face him. ‘I went overboard. Totally overboard. I’m so sorry.’

‘Sit down.’ He pulled a chair out and nodded for her to sit. ‘It’s my fault. How were you to know?’

She sat and looked at the soapsuds drying on the table top; the circles she’d made with the cloth. ‘I can be insensitive. I don’t mean to be. Steve’s always on at me about it.’

Joe held the kettle under the tap. ‘Tea?’

‘Lovely. Thanks.’

‘That makes two of us,’ he said. ‘Insensitive.’

Mandy watched him struggle with the tap. His right hand was red raw across the knuckles and swollen as far as his wrist. ‘Says who?’

‘My wife.’ He put the kettle down and used his left hand to turn the tap off.

‘Did you two have a big fight, then?’

He studied his reflection in the kettle. ‘I think so.’

‘You think so?’

He looked up at her. ‘That night she was at yours. She came back late. I’m a bit hazy on the details but I think we argued. I think it got pretty heated.’

Mandy nodded. ‘You blacked out?’

‘Must have.’ He unbuttoned his collar. ‘Did she say anything to you about it?’

‘No, she didn’t mention anything. She had Isla with her whenever I saw her, mind you.’

‘Right. I wish I could remember.’