I put the bread back on the plate, relieved I don’t have to force it down. ‘Let’s get the bill and go home.’ I watch as he makes his way to the gents’, not sure how I feel about this evening. I thought maybe he wanted to cheer me up, but it almost feels as if he brought me out so he could examine me at close quarters. See how I reacted to leaving the children, see how much I ate, see how I behaved when it was just the two of us without the distraction of the house and the children. Something crackles under my skin, a nervous energy. His phone lies on the table next to his empty plate, and I picture him turning the screen dark as I approached from the ladies’ earlier in the evening.

Maybe he was checking to see if Evie had contacted him. I lift the phone, entering his passcode. Our wedding date, the same as mine. The picture on his lock screen is of Mina, holding the baby on the day we brought him home. No signal. The pub is in a dead zone, there is no way for Evie to contact us if she needed to. I feel the first wings of panic flutter in my chest, butterflies beating hard against my ribcage. I swipe across, and there is one unread WhatsApp message. Maybe that is from Evie – there is one weak Wifi bar in the pub. I tap on the WhatsApp icon to open the app, but the unread message isn’t from Evie. It’s from Naomi.

Glancing up to check that Rav isn’t yet at the bar, I open the message, my pulse thudding loud and hard in my ears. Somehow, I think I already know what I will find.

Yes, I feel things are escalating. You’re doing the right thing.

This, from Naomi. I scroll back to see what message Rav wrote that she is replying to.

It’s the children I am worried about – whether they are safe or whether I need to remove them. Passports are sorted.