Don’t overreact.

There’s no evidence that Marie left her flat unwillingly. Lots of men are tall with dark hair, George included. He could have been anyone. A delivery driver. A salesman. It could have been anyone.

But I know it wasn’t.

He’s back.

At home I am desperate to tell Carly what Marie’s neighbour has said but she looks terrible: bloodshot eyes and her voice is hoarse.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says as soon as I walk into the kitchen.

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘I’m not… I don’t know what I’m doing.’ She’s making a sandwich for Archie but she stares at the butter as though she’s never seen it before. I slip the knife from her hand. ‘You look awful. Get yourself home and tucked up in bed.’

‘But it’s your parents’ evening tonight. I’m so sorry.’

‘You can’t help it.’ Her eyes fill with tears and I know she feels she’s let me down. ‘I’ll ask Tash to babysit.’ I usher her to the door.

‘Two days, Leah.’ Her voice cracks. ‘In two days it will have been twenty years since… since…’

‘Carly, it will be okay.’ I offer my sister a reassurance I don’t feel but I know when you’re feeling unwell everything is magnified and why shouldn’t I be the strong one for once? The one to look after her. ‘Go home.’

She looks so small as she climbs into her car. I watch her drive away before I head back into the kitchen and disinfect everything before throwing away the loaf of bread she had touched, giving Archie cream crackers for lunch instead.

I slick confidence over my lips and paint my cheeks happy before zipping up my red skirt. I’d heard that the colours you wear can reflect your mood. I can at least look brave, even if I don’t feel it. Coming out of the bedroom I hear Archie shriek with delight. Then the slosh of water.

I poke my head around the bathroom door. Archie has smeared a foamy bubble-bath beard over his chin. The scent of apple shampoo lingers in the air. ‘We need to leave in about twenty minutes.’

‘Can I come?’ Archie asks for the hundredth time.

‘Sorry. It’s just for grown-ups.’

‘But it’s my nursery.’ His expression changes in a millisecond. He’s tired and on the brink of tears.

‘I know, and your teachers will tell us how brilliant you are and then at the weekend we’ll get you a treat.’

‘A puppy!’ Archie lifts his hands in the air. Bubbles drift to the ground and pop.

‘Not a puppy, no.’ I can’t bear to look at his disappointed face.

‘Parents’ evening.’ George shakes his head. ‘At four years old.’

‘It’s to talk about his transition to school,’ I say although I feel there’s nothing that can prepare me for that.

‘But I—’ Archie begins and I cut him off with ‘Tash is coming to read you a story – that will be much more fun.’ Tash always gives the characters accents.