I should probably dismiss it as a cold call, or wrong number. But a tiny part of me can’t help wondering if it might have been Dina wanting to get in touch. Maybe she heard my voice at the end of the line and chickened out. It’s frustrating, and only serves to add to my anxiety. At least I’m mildly comforted by the thought that if she called once, perhaps she’ll call again. Although I can’t help feeling nervous about what she might want, given how we left things last time. I can only hope that she’s grown up since then and changed her ways. After all, we were still teenagers when she first left Shaftesbury, our relationship awkward and immature. Even as adults, our sibling issues remain stuck in the past. Perhaps if we were able to reunite properly, face to face, things would be different. We could break the cycle. It would be amazing if we could reconnect in a good way and put the past behind us. But with a shrinking heart, I realise that’s probably wishful thinking.

Twelve

NOW

As the key turns in the lock, I experience a small beat of dread in my chest.

Toby’s home.

Normally I look forward to his return from work. But things have been hideously awkward ever since Friday. I managed to avoid talking to him too much at the weekend, concentrating instead on the children. And I pretended to have a headache for most of Sunday. But this can’t go on. I need to confront my husband about his tryst – or whatever it was – with Madeline at our house last week.

As Toby walks through the front door, Alice and Jamie shoot into the hall to welcome him, brandishing their freshly made Christmas decorations and basking in his feigned surprise that he can’t believe the children made such wonderful gingerbread biscuits; surely fairies must have delivered them to the house on unicorns. Either that, or they must have bought them at a very posh and expensive shop.

Despite my ambivalence towards Toby at the moment, we both go through the regular evening routine of supper and bath time for the kids, followed by a bedtime story and then fielding Jamie’s multiple trips downstairs for water, or not being able to sleep, and just general delaying tactics. Alice is still upset about Hope’s party, but I try to take her mind off the disappointment by getting her to read a book before falling asleep. Hopefully it’s working. I want to go up and check on her, but I’ll leave it a while longer.

Toby’s almost finished grilling the fish and boiling the potatoes, so I step in to blanch some green beans and broccoli. He tells me about his day, and I tell him about my hellish morning. To which he nods but stays silent. He doesn’t even ask any questions.