‘Beau? Oh, out with the au pair.’ Marcus held my gaze. ‘So I’m home alone myself, and I can show you the fantastic pics of the kids, camping.’

‘It’s very kind.’ I kicked the tyre disconsolately. ‘But Zach’ll be waiting for his tea.’ Zach wouldn’t notice if I was there or not; he’d shovel something in, glued to FIFA or YouTube, monosyllabic – but I didn’t want to admit that either. Growing teens might give us more respite from childcare, but God, it was lonely sometimes.

‘Ah come on!’ Marcus crinkled his eyes at me. ‘We can talk ideas for Zach’s internship, and perhaps you’ll let me use some pics for my youth voting website.’

‘Internship?’ I felt myself wavering. ‘Well, it does sound…’

A car whizzed past, windows down, the notes of a familiar song wrapping themselves around me. ‘It’s Saturday, it’s Saturday-a-ay-a-ay—’

Summertime in Spain; a tousled bed under a ceiling fan—

‘Ruby?’ He frowned. ‘OK? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘Sorry, Marcus. My keys were digging into my palm so hard I realised it really hurt.’ I locked the van again. ‘I’d really better get home. I’ll walk.’

‘You really are a tough nut to crack, aren’t you?’ Marcus sighed.

‘Completely nuts!’ I ducked my head. ‘Crackers, in fact!’

‘No, I didn’t mean…’ Now he frowned. ‘At least let me give you a lift. Oh.’ He stared at my face. ‘God!’

‘What?’ I froze.

‘You’re bleeding.’ He reached his hand towards my mouth. ‘Did you bite your lip?’ A red smudge on his finger.

Dazed, I raised a hand to where he’d touched my skin. ‘Maybe. Daft.’

Stop saying daft, Ruby! You’re just drawing attention to it.

‘So, a lift?’

It was getting more chilly now as the sun vanished. My cardigan was thin, and I had no phone to call help from.

‘OK.’ I’d lost the will to argue. ‘I’d appreciate it – thank you.’

And perhaps, truthfully, I hadn’t wanted to argue in the first place.

Slowly, as I followed him to his car, I let out my breath.

I let it out exactly as if I’d been holding it for a very long time.

Sitting in the front of a car so smooth it was like driving through silk, I sought desperately for small talk – and then found it didn’t seem to matter.

Sitting beside this relative stranger, my feet surrounded by tools he’d swept off the front seat, to my great surprise, I felt very comfortable.

His hand moved the gearstick deftly and I watched, hypnotized momentarily; felt a sensation I didn’t want to name.

Perhaps I had finally started to thaw out – just a little. Perhaps. I hadn’t even really known if so – but I knew exactly when I had frozen.

The moment the police informed me, standing grey-faced and staring in my front room, that, instead of me going to work today, my world had become untethered entirely from its moorings; from itself.

In fact, my world had drifted apart so totally that I’d feared for my sanity – and all of it had happened in one split second – or maybe ten. It had happened before or while I was busy eating peanut butter on toast at our kitchen table, laughing at something silly a DJ was saying on the radio, before I woke the children for school.