Breathing out a sigh of relief, Alicia came from the kitchen to meet Justin as soon as she heard his key in the front door. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked him, almost before he’d stepped through it.

Justin glanced at her confusedly.

‘I was worried,’ Alicia said, trying not to sound accusatory. God knew, that was the last thing she should be. ‘You’ve been gone a while. I rang the hospital. They said you’d left. And when you didn’t come home, I wondered… I thought…’ She trailed hopelessly off, the words she wanted to say to him dying in her throat.

He could talk to her – that was what she wanted to tell him. Should tell him. She was here for him. Every thought she had now was muddled. Everything she said to him would add an insult to the injury that would inevitably be caused when the truth came out. She could feel it, like a guillotine casting a long shadow over them, ready to drop, when Paul Radley chose to let it.

‘Sorry,’ Justin said, with an attempt at a smile. ‘I should have thought. I was out walking, lost track of time. I meant to call.’

‘But you’re all right?’ she asked again, knowing he couldn’t possibly be.

Justin took a second, a long second, to hang his coat up, and then finally turned to look at her. ‘Under the circumstances’ – he paused, holding her gaze – ‘yes, as well as I can be, I suppose.’

Alicia scanned his eyes. Usually so bright and intelligent, twinkling amusedly whenever he smiled and always full of compassion, there was nothing there now other than deep-rooted pain.

‘Dad?’ Sophie called apprehensively to him from the landing, breaking the silence now hanging between them. ‘Are you okay? You’ve been gone ages.’

Justin snapped his gaze away from Alicia to look up at her. ‘Yes,’ he said, quickly. ‘Sorry, Pumpkin. There was a patient I needed to check on. I should have rung. I’m okay, honestly.’

Wiping a hand quickly across her cheek, looking small and vulnerable, and about as convinced as Alicia felt, Sophie looked him anxiously over, and then padded quickly down the stairs to throw herself into his arms.

Justin held her, hugging her back hard. ‘We’ll get through this, baby, I promise,’ he said hoarsely, dropping a soft kiss to her hair and then looking back to Alicia.

Alicia saw a question in his eyes. Fear, too. The same fear that was eating away at her. Will we get through this? Alicia had no way to answer.

Justin turned his attention back to Sophie. ‘Have you eaten?’ he asked her, easing back to scan her face.

Looking pale and drawn, Sophie hesitated. She hadn’t, but clearly she didn’t want to tell Justin that. She wouldn’t lie to him either, so she simply shrugged instead.

‘How about some soup?’ Justin suggested, talking to her encouragingly, as he might have done when she was a small girl tucked up in bed with some childhood illness.

Sophie nodded then. ‘I’ll have some if you will,’ she said, turning to the kitchen.

‘Deal,’ Justin said. ‘Alicia?’

Alicia felt all her emotions bubbling to the surface as he looked at her, with such uncertainty in his eyes, it tore another piece from her heart. She should eat. She should at least try – for his sake, for Sophie’s – but what she really wanted to do was curl up under her duvet until the unbearable tightness in her chest went away. The duvet on the bed where she slept with the man she’d loved with her very soul since she’d first met him. The bed in which they’d talked, about important and inconsequential things, laughed and made sweet love, he sensitive to her every need, touching her to her very core, creating the child God had called back to heaven too soon. Alicia held on to that thought: that that’s where Lucas was, safe with her mum – his great-nanna – who would be making endless cure-all cups of tea. It was what sustained her when she woke in the darkest hours, feeling so lonely and empty, desperate to turn to the man she knew would offer the comfort she so badly needed. Yet, how could she? She had to tell him. Everything. What alternative was there?

‘Soup?’ he asked her.

Alicia swallowed. ‘I’ll join you in a minute.’ She smiled, though her voice caught painfully in her throat. ‘I’m just going to grab the blouse Sophie needs ironed for tomorrow.’

Halfway up the stairs, Alicia saw him glance down, massaging his temples hard. Staying where she was, she watched as he turned his gaze upwards, as if contemplating… How would he ever survive the day he buried his six-month-old son?