Bess had spent the last couple of days like a shadow in the house, a stranger within these walls she knew so well, lurking in the corners and trying to sort her flustered thoughts in this new version of the world in which she found herself, albeit a world of her own making. She and Mario were in a state of shock, grief-stricken and a little bewildered. Even Chutney was quiet, head low. Time was skewed as she and Mario crept from room to room like bruised things, rubbing their arms and heads as if the damage were physical and howling in pain behind the locked bathroom door or in the early hours when the world slept, because this felt like the safest place and time to do so. There were brief moments of normality, false dawns, when they woke and met on the landing, coming out of the separate rooms in which they slept, before trailing downstairs to let Chutney out into the garden, where the sun was shining. And yet despite the warm weather, they huddled inside fleece tops and dressing gowns, the chill in their bones nothing to do with temperature. They made cups of tea, and as the kettle whistled and they reached into the creaking fridge for milk, it was as if it were any other day. They would then sit quietly on opposite sides of the lounge in their pyjamas, where the weight of what they were going through bore down on them and they stared at the floor, their mugs, the dog, the TV: anywhere but at each other. Mario didn’t go to work and she phoned in sick. Sushmita took the call and was sweet, sending love and asking if there was anything Bess needed.

‘We need to tell the kids.’ His voice was a little unused and raspy.

‘Yes.’ She tried to picture the scenario and her face fell at the prospect.

‘We’ll do it together. That’ll be easier for everyone.’

‘Thank you.’ She meant it, but even these two words felt insincere when spoken in the shadow of the news she had shared.

This state of affairs was not what she had expected. Over the years, Bess’s daydreams had seen her tell Mario the full story, and with the burden of secrecy lifted, the two would find a way through, hand in hand. But this felt nothing like that. She felt just as hollow as before, adrift and alone, having hoped that opening up to Mario might bring instant relief. Now, however, the atmosphere was replaced with something close to confusion, and oh so many questions. How could they survive as a couple with so much to come to terms with? And was he judging her too? Her low self-esteem held her in its grasp and whispered in her ear, stoking the familiar fires of guilt.