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relationship with Charlotte, it’s more complex. They were joined at the hip when Oli was a child, clashed furiously when he was a teen and have developed a mutual respect since. Theirs is a comfortable friendship, tempered by a similar sense of humour and challenged by different political views. They laugh easily but when they clash it’s Titan-like. Charlotte and I always run for cover.
    I twist to place my book and my wine glass on the coffee table, temporarily hiding my face from my husband. I feel sure he must have noticed the strained expression on my face. Trying to appear ‘normal’ when all I want to do is rage at him is exhausting, but I can’t scream at him. The last thing Charlotte needs is for me to suffer another of my episodes. I have to be calm. Logical. One lie does not an infidelity make. I need more evidence.
    ‘You okay?’ There’s concern in Brian’s voice.
    ‘Great,’ I twist back. ‘How was work?’
    ‘Urgh.’ He groans and runs a hand through his hair. It was once as bright a shade of auburn as Oli but it’s now ninety per cent grey, what’s left of it. ‘Hideous.’
    ‘How was the train journey?’
    He casts me an enquiring look. I’m not normally so interested in the details of his daily commute. ‘Same as normal,’ he says then reaches across the sofa and pats one of my knees. ‘You okay, darling? You seem a bit … tense.’
    My fingers are knotted together. Was I twisting them while Brian was talking? It’s amazing, the little messages a body can leak. I look from my fingers to my husband. His body isn’t saying anything unusual. He looks as relaxed and calm as normal.
    ‘Why did you lie to me, Brian?’ So much for staying calm and logical.
    His mouth drops open and he blinks. ‘Sorry?’
    ‘You made out you were going to work.’
    ‘When?’
    ‘This morning. You didn’t go, did you?’
    ‘Yes, I did.’
    ‘That’s odd, Mark said you weren’t there.’
    ‘Mark?’ Brian snatches his hand from my knee. ‘Why would you ring my PA?’
    ‘I didn’t,’ I say. ‘He rang me.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘He said he had something important to discuss with you. Didn’t he mention it when you went into the office in the afternoon? If you went in.’
    ‘Of course I did. And yes,’ he shifts position so he’s turned square towards me, ‘now I come to think of it, he did have something fairly urgent to discuss with me.’
    ‘Great. So,’ I maintain eye contact, ‘where were you this morning, Brian?’
    My husband says nothing for a couple of seconds. Instead he runs a hand over his face and takes a few deep breaths. I wonder if he’s steadying himself, hiding his eyes from me so I can’t see the lies he’s fabricating now I’ve confronted him.
    ‘I …’ he looks at me, a frown creasing his forehead. ‘I was going to see Charlotte.’
    ‘You didn’t! We were both there when the consultant said—’
    ‘Sue.’ He holds up a hand and I bite my tongue. ‘I was planning on seeing Charlotte this morning. I planned it days ago. I know you can’t bear it when she’s left alone so I was going to surprise you, suggest that you take yourself into town to get a manicure or a haircut or a new dress or something while I sat with her. Then, last night, the consultant told us about the tests and that pretty much scuppered my plans so …’
    ‘So?’ I say the word so loudly Milly lifts her head from carpet and looks at me.
    ‘So I went into town instead. I visited the library, went for a swim, did a bit of shopping and just had a bit of …’ he cringes, ‘I guess you’d call it “me time”.’
    ‘Me time?’
    ‘Yes.’ He looks me straight in the eye.
    ‘So you took the morning off to give me some … me time … and when the consultant told us that we couldn’t visit Charlotte you decided to have some … me time … for yourself instead?’
    He shrugs uncomfortably. ‘Yes.’
    ‘Why didn’t you mention it?’
    ‘When?’
    ‘When you came in just now? Why