For the first few days, she operated on autopilot. Every morning she woke up and for a few blissful seconds she had no memory of what had happened. But then it all came flooding back and the feeling of dread would engulf her again. At night she and Alan lay side by side like strangers. They rarely spoke to each other when they were alone and she knew Alan was waiting for her to be ready before they talked, but she still hadn’t found the right words to say to him. He had cheated on her; he had betrayed her; he said he wouldn’t do it again. What was there left to say? She continued to wait for her anger to come, assuming that once it had sunk in, she would be furious and would lash out at him. But she remained numb.

She was too afraid to leave the house in case she bumped into Angie. She became a hermit, hiding away at home while Alan took the kids out on his own. Tom and Katie, used to the freedom of letting themselves through the garden gate to play with Ellie and Freddy whenever they wanted to, were moody when Sophie told them that they couldn’t go round.

‘But why?’ Tom asked.

‘It’s Angie,’ Sophie said, ‘she’s not well. Anyway, you’ll see them at school.’

The new term started three days later. She hadn’t heard from either Angie or Jack and she couldn’t face either of them. As she got out of bed that morning, forcing herself to stand up despite every bone in her body wanting to stay under the covers, she turned to Alan.

‘You’re taking the children to school this morning.’

‘Soph, I’ve got to be on site at 8.30am.’

She looked at him. ‘You’re taking them.’

He looked like he was about to protest but he nodded instead. The minute he left with the children she sank down onto the sofa. She wanted to go swimming but she didn’t have the energy and she wasn’t due at work for another two days. She literally had nothing to do.

She had been waiting for Tom and Katie to go back to school so that she’d have the space she needed to process what had happened and decide what to do. But now that she was here, she was just as confused as ever. They couldn’t go on living like strangers forever, it wasn’t sustainable. She had to make a decision sooner or later: could she forgive Alan or was their marriage over? If only it hadn’t been Angie. If it had been someone else perhaps I could have moved past it.

It was only half true, adultery was adultery, but the humiliation of it being with Angie was excruciating. Why her? At last, the anger started to bubble up inside her and she thumped the pillow. Then she did it again, and again, until before she knew it, she was battering it with both arms, screaming, shouting and eventually crying. She cried and cried until she had no tears left and then she sat and stared at a family photo on the wall for a while. Alan had his arm around Sophie and they were both pulling a silly face. Tom and Katie were laughing. They’d taken it on holiday in Greece last summer, when they went away with the Taylors. Angie and Alan had already slept together by then. Come to think of it, Angie had taken the photo.