Faye’s heart seemed to thunder in time with the river. She stopped and, concerned her legs would give way, leaned on her walking stick. Clare was Derek’s daughter? No. It didn’t make sense. How could it be possible? Derek and Michelle’s romance pre-dated the girl’s birth by years. Or was Faye mistaken? Surely she would have known? Suspected something? There was nothing about Clare that suggested she had any of Derek’s genes. Physically, she was a fragile, feminine replica of Geoffrey with Michelle’s hair. Neither was there anything in her personality Faye recognised in her husband. Derek was irrational. He must be ill. Perhaps he’d hit his head during the river crossing? She should have asked Geoffrey exactly what had happened. There must be some mistake. But why would Derek claim such a thing? How could he be so cruel?

She thought how specific he was about the timing. He’d referred to more than twenty years previously. That was when Geoffrey had left the bank to start his business. Faye tried to remember the time, where they were and what was happening in their lives. Had she and Derek ever discussed it? Talked about Geoffrey’s decision? How did Faye find out about it? Then it came back to her.

GNS Medical Supplies had been awarded the distribution rights for a range of cancer screening equipment made in Canada. It was a big deal and the launch demanded a great deal from George, Faye and their sales team. Although she and Derek had had supper together at home every night, she’d been rushed and tired and hadn’t given him much attention during the fortnight of the launch. The afternoon when it was finally over, Faye left work early so she could prepare Derek’s favourite meal. It would be good to relax and catch up, she thought. By the time he got home though, she’d packed it away in the fridge and was getting ready for bed.

“I told you I’d be out this evening,” he said.

It was possible, she thought; she’d had a lot on her mind.

“It’s okay,” she smiled. “We’ll make up for it over the weekend.”

Derek sat on the side of the bed and took her hand. His eyes darted left and right as they were inclined to do when he was nervous.

“Faye,” he said, trying to hold her gaze, but failing. “I have to tell you something.”

“Is everything okay?”

“No, not really.”

“Well—”

He dropped her hand. “Just let me speak. Okay?”

Faye nodded.

“I’m having second thoughts.” He hesitated, looking towards the window.

“About what?”

“About us.”

“What? What do you mean? Second thoughts? We’re married. Surely—” Her mouth was dry. The words came out as if she was being strangled.

“It’s just that I thought I could, but . . .”

“But what’s changed?”

He said nothing.