‘What?’ I pause in my attempt to stuff the pillow into the case and follow his gaze. ‘It was spontaneous … oh.’

A vase sits atop the battered chest of drawers that was in the room when we moved in. Neither of us thought about getting rid of it, as we didn’t have anything to replace it, although Avó had given it a good going over with the Dettol before she allowed us to keep it. The vase is one of ours, one that I believed to be empty in the cupboard under the kitchen sink. Only it’s not. It’s here in the spare room and it is filled with flowers.

‘Like you were expecting me,’ Rav says, with a bark of laughter. He reaches out with one finger to touch the petals.

‘Don’t touch that!’ My voice rings out, loud and crashing in the silence of the house. ‘It’s poisonous.’

I can smell it on the air, now that I think about it. The fresh, apricot-like scent of the oleander flowers. They are mixed with the pink bells of columbine, a plant that is toxic if even touched, let alone ingested. I have seen columbines somewhere before recently, their fragile heads bowed under the weight of their bell-like petals, but I can’t place it.

‘Fucks’ sake, Allie.’ Rav is furious, a twitch in his jaw and the fact that he swore at me belying his calm façade. ‘The kids are in the house. What are you doing bringing toxic plants into our home?’

The petals of the flowers are wilted slightly, the water only two thirds of the way up the glass of the vase. ‘I didn’t,’ I whisper. My hands are shaking, and I turn my frightened gaze to Rav. ‘I didn’t bring them in.’

‘Well I didn’t,’ Rav snaps, ‘who else could it be, Allie? You’re the only one who’s here all day long.’

‘I promise you, Rav, I would never bring those plants into our house. If Mina touched them—’ I break off, not wanting to think about it. If she touched them, their pretty, pink, irresistible bells, then put her hands in her mouth …

‘If not you, then who?’ Rav’s voice softens. ‘Maybe my mum thought she was doing something nice; you know she hasn’t got a clue about plants and flowers. I just hope she washed her hands after she touched them. I’ll call her in the morning and warn her not to pick stuff. These grow in our garden, don’t they?’ He comes to me, but there is a wariness in his eyes as he wraps his arms around me. I stand stiffly, not taking my eyes from the vase.