‘Sure. You know, I might slip off to bed. It’s boring, but I’m beat. Difficult work thing today. Anyway, it’s starting to get cold.’ There were one too many excuses in there, I knew.

Bill shifted, standing suddenly closer, so I could almost feel the hairs on my arm rise, his breath on my skin. ‘We could stay in here. Have a drink in the living room? It’s been ages since we talked.’

‘I know.’ I opened my mouth and shut it again. If I started to say some of the things I wanted to say to Bill, I might never stop.

‘Ali, I . . .’ I waited for him to finish the sentence, but he didn’t, and the silence started to feel powerful, like another person in the room. He put out his free hand, and touched my upper arm, as if holding me back to tell me something, but I hadn’t turned away, and he still didn’t say anything.

I met his dark eyes, just for a second. Bill. Then I darted forward, wiping at some drops of red wine on the side. ‘I – would you tell the others goodnight? If I come out I’ll be another hour. And someone has to cook breakfast!’ I dropped the cloth and went upstairs, telling myself it was the sensible choice. Go to bed, before anything went wrong.

I didn’t know it, but it was already too late for that.

Afterwards, I could never remember what had woken me. A noise of some kind, or a feeling, deep down in my bones, that something had happened. Already I was dry-mouthed and hungover. The bedside clock, the one Mike had bought to wake him up with a fake sunrise, showed 3.30 a.m. I made him turn the display off when he set the alarm function, so that meant he hadn’t come to bed yet. His pyjamas were still neatly folded under his pillow. I got out of bed, the old floorboards I was so proud of creaking under my bare feet, and went to fetch a glass of water.

The door to Benji’s room was shut, and how strange it was to think that Bill was sleeping in there, just a wall away. Bill, not seen for so many years. Again, the twinge of annoyance that Mike had messed with my room plan, not listening as usual. I hoped Karen wouldn’t be offended at being stuck over the garage. Cassie’s door was ajar, and I could see in the slice of dark Benji’s pale face on the camp bed pillow, fast asleep. The spare room door was open, the bed empty. No Jodi, no Callum.