The rattling cry of the magpie sounded outside. Like it did every morning. Benjamin clenched his teeth, and turned over to stare at the alarm clock. He had been wide awake already but that didn’t stop him from wanting to shoot that bloody bird. Its call was the precursor to the alarm going off, and another day officially starting. He couldn’t face having to get up and try all over again. It being a Saturday made it all the harder somehow, thinking that the rest of the world was relaxing and having fun while he slogged it out.

Another guttural call came from outside. No light was seeping around the edges of the curtain. It was dark still outside, too early to get up yet. Why did the bird sit on the roof above his window every morning anyway? It was like a harbinger of doom. If he believed in that kind of thing. Which, of course, he didn’t. Successful people made their own luck.

As the clock’s digital read-out edged towards seven a.m., Benjamin turned the alarm off by touch alone. No point in waking Dominique yet. He gently pulled back the duvet and got up slowly so that the movement wouldn’t stir his wife. He couldn’t face her. Not yet. He needed time to gird himself for it.

Pausing as he scratched himself, he looked down at her face in the gloom. Smooth forehead, one hand resting on the pillow and slightly tangled in her long auburn hair, cupid’s bow mouth open the tiniest amount. She looked so peaceful.

Hate soured his blood.

The bitch didn’t have a care in the world.

Finding the energy to drag himself out of bed every morning was getting harder and harder for Benjamin. All he wanted was to curl up in a ball and cry. Crying was for wimps, though. Real men didn’t do that. So instead he got angry. Anger was a great force to power him. That and the fact that he didn’t want anyone to discover his lies. If people found out, everything would be lost.

As if Benjamin didn’t have enough on his plate, bloody Ruby was playing up again, too. He was sick of it. Why couldn’t she behave?

He put his shoulders back and didn’t shuffle to the bathroom; he strode, knowing that it would wake his wife. Good. He wanted her to realise he was still the virile, powerful man she had married.

He heard her sigh as she woke. The rustle of the duvet as she moved.

‘Good morning,’ she murmured sleepily.

Benjamin shut the door to the en-suite bathroom, pretending he hadn’t heard her. When he looked in the mirror, he fought to convince himself it was her he hated, and not himself.

As he did up his trousers, Benjamin had to breathe in, hoisting his gut up and in. Back in the good old days he had been something of a star on the rugby pitch, tackling people as a prop. He’d been solid muscle back then. Powerful and impressive. Now he had run to fat. Too many nights working late and scoffing dinner quickly before going to bed, exhausted. Too many corporate lunches with clients, eating rich food that gave him indigestion and heartburn so that he had to permanently live with a packet of Rennies in his jacket pocket.

With an audible huff, Benjamin let his breath out and his stomach sag. He slapped his hand on it, contemplating how his life had all gone wrong. He’d had it all worked out when he was a go-getting twenty-something, still lighting up the rugby field. When he had caught Dominique’s eye and swept her off her feet with his talk of how he was going to take over the world. By the time he was forty, he had told her, he would be a millionaire several times over. He would retire aged fifty-six, when all of his annuities were due to come to fruition, by which time the children he planned on having (a boy and a girl) would have both turned eighteen and be at university themselves, living independently, though still coming to their dad for advice because he would be their best friend.

The first disappointment had come, in fact, when Dominique gave birth to Ruby. He had wanted his son and heir born first, and hadn’t been entirely sure how he would connect with a daughter. But he’d convinced himself that she would, obviously, adore him, and that his son would come along soon.

It had been a long wait until Dom had fallen pregnant again. There had been talk of IVF, of mucking about with tests, and he hadn’t approved of that at all. If there was a problem, he didn’t want people finding out about it. Certainly, he didn’t want anyone thinking that it was he who had the problem. Benjamin was all man.

Not that he felt it lately.

After six long years of waiting, along had come Amber; their little Mouse. She was a strange one. He liked her more than Ruby, he admitted grudgingly to himself, then hastily reminded himself that he did love both his daughters very much – of course he did.

The truth was, his children were an enigma. Before fatherhood he had assumed he would automatically love his kids, and they would love and respect him. But they didn’t listen to a thing he said. They questioned things. They answered back, even when he gave them the simplest of instructions to follow. It was infuriating.

Benjamin had tried over the years to bond with his children. Neighbours would often have seen him in the park, when they were younger. He had tried to teach them how to throw and catch a rugby ball, but although Ruby had been keen at first, she didn’t have the sticking power and gumption to put in the hard work needed to be good. Such a shame, as she’d been fast and fleet with the ball. He had looked forward to those games in Greenwich Park, throwing the ball long to her; her face a picture of concentration as she followed it in the air, sprinting to get into place below it. Jumping and catching it, the elation in her eyes clear as the wind whipped her hair around her face. Dominique clapping her hands and calling encouragement, standing on the sidelines with Amber in her pram.

Afterwards, they would sit together with a little family picnic. Tired but happy, they’d look down the hill towards the Thames, sparkling in the distance, as they chatted and ate. Those had been wonderful days.

Then puberty had hit, and Ruby stopped wanting to play with her old dad. At first Benjamin had been disappointed – felt rejected, even – but he realised it was a waste of his valuable time teaching her. A girl would never become a great player and represent her country. And people might think it was odd if she got too good at it anyway – he didn’t want to be known to everyone as the bloke with the butch daughter.

Benjamin didn’t like to be different, he wanted to be exactly like everyone else. Only better.

Still, he had tried to be there for Ruby. Done his best to encourage her. When she had been struggling academically at school, instead of giving in to her demands to leave, he had insisted she stick it out. He had faith in her, knew that with enough carrot and stick she would get there. The worst possible thing for her long-term would be to give in, because then she would learn that failure was rewarded. He wanted her to realise that if she applied herself, she was capable of realising her dreams. So, he had made her stay at that private school, told her that she could leave only if she got good enough grades.

But she had let herself down.

Bad enough she had failed to get her grades, but to be thrown out for drunken behaviour was unforgiveable.

She was getting worse and worse, and he had no idea how to help her. Benjamin didn’t have time to pander to her, she needed to pull herself up by the bootstraps and get real.

He looked at himself once more in the mirror as he did his jacket up. The Savile Row suit fitted him perfectly, hiding the worst of his stomach and giving the impression of broad shoulders and slim-ish hips still. The blue tie exactly matched his eyes – which was the reason why he wore it.

He’d still got it, baby. He was still a winner.

If he played his cards right, no one would ever know what he had done…