Lucas scrolled through to the opening page of his symbolism paper, so familiar now. Two months in, and he had edged up to a measly nine hundred words – shameful and dispiriting for an academic supposedly at the top of his game. Stress made you indecisive, Lucas brooded wearily, recalling the number of shirts he had pulled on and off hangers that morning. In the end he had opted for a moss-green one of brushed cotton, so old it was starting to fray at the collar and cuffs, but soft as a friend against his skin. It had been one of the first gifts Esther had given him, early proof that she was good on colours. Good on a lot of things actually, which, if he was honest, Lucas could now see habituation had led him to take for granted. A full fridge; regular, healthy meals; organising the children’s lives – clubs, homework, play-dates, doctors, dentists, holidays – he had been off the hook for most of it. That young husbands nowadays didn’t get nearly such an easy ride was plain; Ralph being a case in point, always haring off the moment college commitments permitted so as to pull his weight with something going on at home. But then he and Esther had been different creatures from a different generation, Lucas hastily reassured himself; and Esther, unlike Catherine with her supersonic vocal talent, had always been happy to recognise that her more piecemeal career fitted better than his with managing the family. Or at least she had seemed to be happy. At first.

How strange to remember love, but not to feel it, he pondered, deliberately summoning Heidi to mind instead; a bulwark against the past. They had talked again on Sunday and she had been rueful but much more composed about the loss of the ring. A new, more urgent focus for concern had presented itself in the form of one of her grandparents’ beloved dogs falling sick, with a suspected tumour, along with a dilemma about whether to accept an out-of-the-blue invitation to go on a five day trek in the Black Forest with some Heidelberg friends the following weekend until Wednesday. It would mean extending her stay, and Lucas had told her to do so without qualms, telling her, truthfully, both that she deserved it and how grateful he was that it would give him more time to clear up the Moira mess before she returned. The thought that such a clear-up could now be hours away was beyond exciting.