‘Esther, would you mind if I lay down for a bit?’ Lucas mumbled, already turning to crawl onto the bed. ‘Just to close my eyes. I feel so worn down. That sofa… I haven’t slept. I just want some… calm.’

‘Okay. Hang on.’ Esther shifted closer to the wall to make more room, propping herself up against the headboard with the pillow, while he stretched out on his back beside her. The bed was not designed for two people. Like the one in her shared flat, all those years ago. Esther let the memory form, staring it down: the first date, the courtship that had led up to it, the wooing, the kissing. The loving.

‘Thanks. Sorry, Es.’

‘It’s all right.’ Esther spread the duvet over them both, careful not to touch him.

‘I peed in this bed,’ he said quietly, after a few moments. ‘Every night. Until I was fourteen. My mother stopped even mentioning it. She put a plastic cover on the mattress. Stripped the sheets every morning, like it was normal. The plastic used to rustle, every time I moved. God, I hated the rustle. When I finally stopped, they bought a new mattress. Dad burnt the old one, saying how much it stank.’

‘Lucas—’

‘I think he might be dying, Esther. He’s so bloody thin, and the coughing, and when we talked, he said he didn’t have long… which of course he doesn’t because he’s almost eighty… and he bloody would say that, wouldn’t he, the bastard? Wanting to guilt me.’

He had turned away from her, bringing his knees up to his chest and hugging himself like a child. Esther gently shifted herself into the same position, putting an arm round him, the rest of her body bracketing his, but not touching. ‘Like I say, give it time. All that matters now – all that has ever mattered – is the children. Our children. To get them home and back into the tracks of their lives.’

His breathing sounded heavier, more settled. She inhaled deeply, readying herself to try for more sleep. For a few seconds their breaths were the only sound, one then the other, taking it in turns.

‘Thank you, Esther.’ He shifted his body, turning his head, and suddenly his mouth was seeking hers. The familiarity was a shock: how he tasted, the smell of his skin. His cheeks were wet with tears and slid against hers as they kissed, with a hunger that cast Esther back into the intensity of their earliest days, the need to merge, as if half consuming each other were the only way of being fully alive.

‘No. Lucas. No.’ She pushed him away, gulping for air.