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She put the phone down and smiled flatly at the waitress.

“Yes,” she said. “Another coffee, please.”

Not that shewaslate home, of course.

She actually arrived a few minutes early—although whether that was to show willing or to maintain the high ground was open to interpretation. She walked inside to find Siena seated in front of the television—again—and Sam’s guitar and equipment leaning against the wall of the front room. He emerged from the kitchen as she closed the front door, already pulling on his coat.

“Can I grab the car keys?” he said.

Not even a hello.

Katie handed the keys over but checked her watch.

“I thought the gig wasn’t until… eight?”

“It isn’t. But I want to get there early to set up. Say hello to a few people and have a catch-up. Plus, we’ve not had chance to practice much recently.”

“Right.”

He hesitated. “Is that not okay, or something?”

“No,” she said. “Of course it’s okay.”

He hesitated again, then gave her the look that pissed her off more than any of the others in his arsenal. It was an expression that said:I can see you’re in a bad mood for no reason, and I’m going to be the bigger person and not rise to it.

“Okay,” he said. “Fine, then.”

Katie sat down with Siena while he made a couple of trips to the car with his gear. Then she made a point of getting up and beginning to prepare Siena’s dinner just before it was obvious Sam was ready to leave.

“Bye, then,” he called through.

“See you later,” she called back. “Break a leg.”

She finished making Siena’s meal, and then sat with her on the couch while she ate it. Normally, Sam insisted on them eating at the table, but Sam wasn’t here, and so she let Siena balance the plate on her knees, occasionally helping her maneuver the food with her fork and spoon. There was the predictable amount of spillage, and she made a mental note to add Siena’s T-shirt to the washing that still needed to be done that evening.

Eventually, it was time for bath and bed.

Katie washed her daughter’s hair slowly and carefully.

“Everything go okay today, Snail?” she said.

“Yeah.”

“Tilt your head back.”

She rinsed out the shampoo, making sure to keep the foam away from Siena’s eyes.

“Nothing weird happen at day care?”

“No.”

She squeezed out the sponge, wishing she was more relieved by her daughter’s answers. She didn’t want to alarm her over what had probably been nothing. But she also knew from experience that, while Siena had an astonishing memory when it came to pictures in a book, or the exact number of treats she was entitled to, a bomb could have gone off at the day care today without her feeling it necessary to remember and relate.

Once Siena was in bed, Katie read a Julia Donaldson book to her and then spread out her beloved flag on top of the sheet. The flag was a relic from her and Sam’s past. They had been together since their teens, but that first year apart, studying at separate universities, had tested them a little. They had emailed constantly, visited each other as much as they were able, and then, in the summer holidays at the end of that first year, went backpacking together.

Their trip had begun in Italy, with a few days spent in Siena. Even now, she could still remember the oppressive heat of its narrow, sandy streets, and all the districts, with their lanterns and fluttering flags. The experience had felt magical on every level. The flag was a souvenir she’d bought from the Snail district, and it had spent close to two months that summer tied casually to her backpack as she and Sam traveled around. While the city was not where they had fallen in love, it was the place their relationship had been cemented after what felt like a period of both tragedy and uncertainty. It was where both of them had decided:Yes, I really do want to be with this person for the rest of my life.And so they had given its name to their daughter when she was born, and Katie had passed the flag on with it.

When she had finished reading, the two of them walked over to the window together and Katie opened the curtains. The sky was black with cloud.