‘I would say Daddy.’ Of course he was. It didn’t matter that Kate was the one running herself into the ground making healthy lunches, arranging excruciating playdates, supervising hellish craft activities. It was Daddy – who would come home late, feed them secret sweets and throw them in the air – who was the hero of the house. It wasn’t fair. Nothing had been fair lately. Nothing.

It had been that photograph which had started it. Or the girl in the photograph. Looking at it, Kate had had a sudden urge to find her; to bring her out again. And if anyone could help, it would be Shannon. Still wide awake, Kate had passed the time searching her mobile for Eurostar train times. By chance, there had been a £29 one-way ticket for the 10.30 a.m. later that morning. She’d screwed up her eyes and done the calculations. Eight forty-five drop off, plus fifteen minutes to get the car, plus half an hour’s drive… Yes, she would be able to do the morning school run and still make that.

Was it meant to be?

Showered and dressed for work, Luke now appeared. He always looked handsome in a suit. ‘I’m going to make myself a coffee for my travel mug. Do you want a proper cup of tea?’

Should she just tell him? No. It would spoil everything. ‘Actually, I’ll have a coffee, too.’

Luke stopped mid-spoon in the coffee jar and looked at her. It was the same expression Thomas wore when she explained he had to put on new pants every morning. ‘Really? That’s not like you.’

If changing her morning drink to coffee was surprising, Luke had better hold onto his pants when he found out what she had planned for the rest of the day.

Last night, she’d sat for at least five minutes as her thumb had hovered over the online payment button. It was the longest she’d sat on the neglected piano stool in years. The camomile tea had done nothing for her pounding heart. Was she actually going to do this? Going to another country on a whim – without booking a return ticket – was the kind of thing the old Kate would have done. The single Kate. The reckless Kate. The fun Kate. The new Kate didn’t do things like that. The mother Kate. The sensible Kate. The bloody boring Kate.

She’d pressed the button.

If she was being transparently twitchy this morning, Luke was his usual oblivious self.