‘I don’t want them in this house.’ Sophie was starting to panic now. ‘I don’t want them sleeping under her roof.’

Jack put a hand on her arm. At least one of them was managing to stay calm. ‘Let them sleep, Sophie. You’ll only confuse and upset them if you wake them up now, in the middle of the night, especially in the state that you’re in. They’ll be fine here; I’ll look after them. I’ll bring them round myself as soon as they wake up.’

Sophie still didn’t move.

‘I promise,’ Jack said. ‘Trust me.’

She nodded and went to follow Alan out of the room. Just before she left, she turned to Angie. But although she had a million things that she wanted to say to her, she was momentarily speechless. She turned away again in disgust and left.

They walked back round to their own house in silence. Alan put the kettle on while Sophie sat down at the kitchen table and flicked absent-mindedly through some pictures that Tom and Katie had drawn earlier that day. She had been pottering about in the kitchen while they did them, listening to the radio and singing along while she did chores. When they had proudly presented their artwork to her, she had exclaimed in delight, grabbing them both and pulling them to her for a hug. Just a few hours ago, her life had been so blissfully normal and uncomplicated. Now she was struggling to process a seismic shift.

It all made sense now, why Angie had been so funny with her. She had been keeping her distance because she’d been sleeping with her husband. And there was Sophie thinking, fretting, that she had done something to upset her. At least Angie had acted like she’d done something wrong though. Alan, on the other hand, had behaved so normally that she hadn’t had the slightest inkling that anything was up. The man she thought she knew better than anyone in the world had lied and cheated like he’d been doing it all his life. How could he do it?

She clutched tightly onto a picture that Katie had drawn of the four of them, Alan, Sophie, Tom and Katie, holding hands and smiling underneath a rainbow. Their perfect family of four. Her hands were shaking. She looked up at Alan, who was putting teabags in mugs.

‘I don’t want a cup of tea, Alan,’ she said.

He paused, not sure what to do.

‘Get me a whisky.’

Alan obediently went to the drinks cabinet to dig out the stash of single malt that Sophie wouldn’t normally touch. He poured them both a dram and carried the tumblers over to the kitchen table, sitting down opposite her and waiting for her to make the first move.

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Come on, Alan, you can do better than that.’

‘Honestly, Sophie, I don’t know why it happened. I didn’t plan it and I’ve regretted it ever since. It was a moment of complete madness.’