When the police finally left her, after what seemed like days but was only a few hours, Mel’s brain was exhausted, her emotions spent. She wasn’t normally a crier, but this situation had brought out what felt like a lifetime’s worth of tears. Now she was alone she was glad to finally stop, and as she sat curled up on the settee, she wiped her tear-stained face, gazing at the fire as if it held the answer.

Her stomach gurgled, but she didn’t have the energy to go and make something to eat, a feeling of nausea rising up at the thought of food. How could she eat when they were gone? When her life was falling apart. How could she?

Her thoughts travelled back over the day and she shivered, pulled her fleece round her body.

It’s my fault, she thought, for being so impulsive. It had always been a problem and had always got her into trouble. I should have learnt by now. Good things come to those who wait. Isn’t that the saying? So why do I always do the opposite? Why can’t I just use my bloody head and think before I act?

The TV blared out the music for the six o’clock news and dread threaded its way through every nerve in her body. Then, when the local news came on, there it was. A family have gone missing in the Lake District. The police need help finding them. The pictures flickered up on the screen and she studied Luke’s face, her heart lurching as if it had forgotten how to beat, her love for him as strong as it had even been.

Where are you, sweetheart? Where the bloody hell are you?

The pictures of the children. So young and innocent.

Then there she was, her face blotchy, eyes red-rimmed, pleading for her family to get in touch or for anyone to phone who might have information. She was shocked by how ragged she looked, but almost pleased as well. Surely people would take pity, take notice and something useful would come in?

When the newsreader moved on to the next story, Mel sat back and wondered how she’d got it so wrong, how her hopes and dreams of a perfect family unit, complete with a new baby, had been so comprehensively shattered.

She thought back to the recent bout of trouble, which had started about two months ago. She’d been squeezed into a lacy basque that she’d bought at Ann Summers. She’d thought it might tempt him, pique his interest a bit, because activity in the bedroom had been intermittent to say the least, especially since the Callum-in-the-bed incident.

She’d been to the beauty parlour and had everything waxed to perfection. Then she’d made sure the kids were out on a sleepover with her new best friend Annabelle’s kids, who were a similar age. And finally, she’d bought a dine-in-for-two from M&S, and in return for all her efforts, she’d hoped for a night of passion.

His expression said it all when he walked into the bedroom and found her stretched out on the bed, giving him her sexiest smile.

‘It’s the right time of the month, Luke. Come on, darling. Tonight’s the night.’

His face reddened. ‘I’m sorry, Mel, but I’m just… you look lovely, but…’ Luke sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, head clasped in his hands.

Mel went over to him and wrapped an arm round his shoulder, pressed an ample breast against his arm.

‘Aw, I know you’re tired, sweetheart, but I don’t mind doing all the work. You can just lie back and enjoy yourself.’ She went to slip a hand down the waistband of his trousers, but he slapped it away. Then he looked shocked. Worried. He stood up and backed away from her. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Mel. I didn’t mean anything.’ He tugged at his hair. ‘It’s just that… I can’t.’

She stood too. ‘What is it? What’s wrong with me?’ She indicated her body, which was toned and slim for a forty year old. Although she was six years older than Luke, she knew she looked young for her age, having the benefit of good genes, and she’d always kept herself in shape.

He shook his head. ‘I just…’ He let out a shuddering sigh. ‘I don’t think I want another baby.’ He took a step closer to the door and she followed, teeth clenched.

‘You… What did you just say?’ Her voice was shaking, she could feel it right the way down through her legs.

He ran a hand through his hair, not looking at her, his eyes fixed on the floor. ‘It’s such a responsibility. And we have two great kids. I just don’t feel that I can cope with any more.’

‘But what about me?’ she said, closing the gap between them. ‘Where does what I want come into any of this?’ She put a hand on her chest, could feel her heart racing, colour rising to her face. ‘You know I want a baby. I want my own child, not…’ She thought she’d stopped herself in time, but there was a hard glint in his eye now. She’d pressed the wrong button. He stalked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. This time, she didn’t follow. Even though she wanted to with every fibre in her body. Don’t beg, she told herself. Do not beg. He’ll come round. Just be a bit more subtle next time.

He’d slept in the spare room after that night, locking the door. Whenever she tried to mention it to him, he said he wasn’t sleeping well and didn’t want to disturb her. There wasn’t much she could say to that, after the Callum incident and the other little argument when he’d had a cold and had kept her awake. She hated going to work all fuzzy-headed and bleary-eyed. For one, it didn’t look professional and for two, it was essential that she was on the ball. Looking back, she could see that she’d overreacted to him disturbing her sleep in the past, and she could understand why he might not want a repeat performance.

She shook her head sadly, the thoughts fading in her mind as she smothered them with regret. Somehow, she’d started something with Luke, a falling apart, a tearing at the seams, that she couldn’t seem to stop.

Ten days ago, it had been time to revisit the ‘let’s have a baby’ conversation, because she was at the peak of her cycle and the whole getting pregnant thing was taking far too long. Now she was almost forty, she was starting to worry that it would never happen. And that was an idea that she couldn’t bear to think about, not when she’d already told all her mummy friends that they were trying and they kept asking her if she had any news yet. It had been going on so long it was getting to the point where it was embarrassing and their words of encouragement were tinged with pity.

She’d cooked his favourite meal for tea; a rich beef lasagne, with a nice rioja and tiramisu for dessert. She’d packed the kids off again and it was a little while until he worked out they weren’t there.

‘Oh, Annabelle invited them for a sleepover.’ She beamed at him, buoyed up on the thoughts of how the evening would pan out. ‘I think there’s a little gang of them going.’

His mouth twitched at the corners as he studied the table, with the fancy tablecloth and a little vase of flowers. Napkins. Candles. He glanced at her, his mouth a thin line.

‘I’m meeting Rob for a pint tonight, I’m not sure I’ll have time for anything to eat.’

Mel frowned, her heart fluttering with alarm. ‘After I’ve made all this effort? No! No, you’re not.’ She bit her lip, caught her temper and smoothed it down with a few soft words. ‘I’m sorry, darling. It’s just that I’ve been waiting for you.’ She mustered her brightest smile, determined that her plans wouldn’t be derailed, confident in her powers of persuasion. ‘And it’s all ready. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll dish up?’

She carried on smiling at him, while her mind whirred. It was only half past six. No way was he meeting anyone just yet. He never went out until after eight at the earliest. He knows, she thought. Knows what I want to talk to him about. Her heart clenched. The omens were not good, but she had to get to the bottom of this thing. How was she going to face all the other mums? They were popping babies out at regular intervals, and a couple of them were older than her. Why can’t it be me?

She busied herself with plates while Luke sat, his hands crunched into fists on his thighs, his body language all wrong for the conversation. But once she’d put his plate in front of him and sat opposite, she ploughed ahead anyway.

‘Luke, I don’t know what’s happened to us.’

‘What do you mean?’ He stuffed a large forkful of food in his mouth.

She sighed. This was going to take an awful lot of patience. She ate quietly for a moment and when she looked up, Luke was staring at her. She looked down at her plate. ‘I mean, we don’t even sleep together anymore.’

‘It’s probably better. I can’t disturb you then, can I?’ There was a sarcastic tone to his voice, a little snipe in his words that didn’t bode well.

She winced. Still harping on about that, are we?

‘I’m sorry, Luke. Honestly, I am. I don’t know how many times I have to apologise.’ She could hear her voice rising, going shrill and she stopped herself, took a sip of wine. ‘It’s just this piece of work I’m doing at the moment. Well, it’s crucial I get it right and make a good impression. If I don’t get all the management team on board, then we can’t get any further. As it is, the company has restructured and they’ll save half a million a year in overheads. But I can’t do that stuff if I’m half asleep and not thinking straight.’

‘Exactly.’ Luke was speed eating, sucking it down rather than chewing, and was already halfway through his plate of food. ‘That’s why it’s better if I sleep in the spare room.’

She put a hand across the table and grabbed his. ‘Darling, please forgive me. Please?’

He gave her hand a fleeting squeeze, then carried on eating again without looking up. ‘Okay.’

There was no emotion in his voice and she couldn’t believe he really meant it, but she smiled at him and lifted her glass. ‘Let’s drink to that.’

He looked up, frowning. ‘To what?’

‘Forgiveness.’

The tic at the side of his mouth twitched again as he lifted his glass and chinked it against hers before taking a large swig.

‘Luke, will you come back to our bed tonight?’

‘I think it’s better if I don’t. Honestly, Mel, I don’t want the arguments. It’s not good for any of us. Not for you, or me, and especially not good for the kids.’

‘Please, Luke. I’m not getting any younger and if we’re…’

His frown deepened. ‘If we’re what?’ He sounded suspicious. Nervous, maybe.

Her resolve snapped. ‘I can’t make a baby on my own, Luke. It’s something we talked about before we got married. It was part of the deal. What we both wanted. You said… you said you’d like another child. I wouldn’t have…’

He threw down his fork and sneered, leant towards her across the table. ‘Wouldn’t have what? That was a condition, was it? Part of the contract? Did you really want me, Mel, or was it just my sperm? Oh, and this lovely house of ours that took all my money to buy?’ He leant back and pushed his plate away. ‘And a ready-made family to get you in with the other mothers? It’s all about image with you, Mel, isn’t it?’

Mel gasped, so hurt by his words that she couldn’t speak for a moment. He’d never spoken to her like that before. Something had changed. She started to tremble.

‘I just want a baby,’ she sobbed.

He stood up and threw his napkin on the table. ‘Well, it won’t be mine.’ His gaze bored into her, his face twisted into a mask of pure vitriol. ‘I had a vasectomy.’

She stared at him, open-mouthed, her heart skipping a beat. ‘You did what?’

‘You heard,’ he said, before he grabbed his coat from where he’d dumped it over the back of a chair and walked out.

That’s when she’d had to re-evaluate everything about their relationship.