Why are you defending her, Rav? ‘I’m not cross,’ I lie smoothly, ‘I’m tired, Rav, that’s all. This is the first time I’ve been out in months. I just didn’t fancy sitting there with a cup of tea making idle chit-chat when I can catch up with her properly tomorrow. You don’t need to make a big deal out of things.’

Rav looks at me hard for a moment, as if debating whether to call bullshit on what I’ve said. In the end he just says, ‘OK. Fair enough.’

He walks away towards the kitchen, and I debate for a moment whether to follow him. My reflection in the mirror is haunted, for want of a better word, my eyes fiercely dark thanks to the make-up, the pale of my cheeks almost glowing in the dim light. I close my eyes for a moment, tears stinging, before breath on the back of my neck makes them fly open. I see you, I think, a dark figure on the stairs watching me in the glass. I feel you. I know you’re still here. My heart starts to bang in my chest, painfully hard and I turn slowly, my mouth dry. The staircase is empty.

The air is cooler tonight, as I stand watch over the garden from the landing window. There has been a brief shower bringing some break in the weather and the clouds have disappeared now to leave bright moonlight behind. The grass sparkles, and I know in the morning my feet will be wet the moment I step onto it. Mina sleeps soundly in the room to the right of me. I had leaned over her after Naomi left, and kissed her sweaty forehead, her dark curls sticking damply to her skin. I had breathed her in, the scent of the baby shampoo I used on her only a few hours earlier, and her own natural scent, something like fresh peach. The baby is fed and changed and sleeps soundly in the cot beside my side of the bed, Rav sprawled across the other side, snoring heavily.

The fox slinks through the garden, skirting the edge of the woods and the pond, hurrying, urgent, as if he has somewhere important to be. The water on the pond is flat and lifeless this evening, no sign of life. I wonder again how it would be to sink my toes into the cool, flat mud under the water. To step further and further in until the icy cold water closes over my head, clearing away the hot, sweaty, uncomfortable tumble of thoughts that roam around in my mind. Rav. Naomi. The children. The blanket. The figure on the stairs, always reflected back in the darkened glass. I can’t swallow, my body burning from the inside.