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Emma gives Lucy a look hoping that might be a lie.

‘It doesn’t matter if you don’t sign them.

As long as they’re served and you’ve seen them then it can still go through the courts.

Paul…’ she says, going over to sit down next to him.

‘Let her go. Face up to the fact you screwed up and let her go and live her life. If you ever loved her, you’ll do that much for her. ’

It’s a voice of reason from someone who’s seen divorce close up but has come out the other end.

He looks into her eyes, putting a hand to his face to almost hide his shame, the fact that his stupid words haven’t worked and his pride has been taken down a few notches.

I notice the tattoo on his arm with the quote from a U2 song that I once thought was romantic. They’re just words.

‘Well I want a proper solicitor to have a look through these papers and I’ll send them on,’ he says sheepishly.

‘I look forward to receiving them,’ I tell him.

He stands up, as do I, and I don’t really know how to part ways with him.

He looks like he wants to go in for a hug but I hold him off with an outreached hand.

‘Bye then,’ I say. He takes the hand and I feel the ring against my skin.

And you know what? It’s nice to feel absolutely nothing.

‘Oh, I’m not shaking your hand, love,’ Beth says to him, as he goes to exit the room. I don’t think Lucy is going to either, she’s almost baring teeth at him, but Emma gives his back a sharp slap that makes him jump.

And then he’s gone. I let out a huge breath. I don’t quite know what that was. Was it closure? Whatever it was, it felt clarifying, like the end of a good exorcism but with less head spinning. As we hear the front door close, the sisters stand there, waiting, watching.

‘How did you get here so quickly?’ I ask them.

‘We’re good like that,’ Beth says. ‘Told you, like Batman.’

I stare at the walls of the flat, completely worn, tired, but thoughts of Charlie also rush in and threaten to consume me. I’d text him if I had a working phone, but maybe it’s the right thing to give him a bit of space first. I hope Paul hasn’t broken our thing. I really hope so.

‘I can say this now, cousin, but looking at him close up again, his head is the shape of a muffin,’ Lucy says.

‘I know what you mean. He has massive temples, square jaw,’ Beth adds.

‘Yeah, your babies would have been hard to birth,’ Emma tells me. ‘You’ve possibly dodged a bullet.’ She comes to sit down next to me.

Whilst I appreciate them trying to make me laugh, I sit there, a little speechless, very contemplative, trying to work out what all of this means. Lucy comes and sits next to me, her head on my shoulder.

‘Do you want to stay at one of ours tonight? So you’re not alone?’ she asks me.

I shake my head. ‘But thank you.’

‘Oh…’ Beth intervenes. ‘And we also bought fish and chips. We hid them in the hallway because we didn’t want to share them with him.’

She goes out to get them. I don’t know how to tell her chips are the perfect thing to fill the gap right now.

‘You girls. Thank you. Can I give you some money for them?’ I ask, reaching down to my handbag and pulling out my wallet. But as I do, a paper bag falls out on to the floor. I reach down to pick it up.

‘What’s that?’ Lucy asks.

I see a note on the bag. Estarás a salvo conmigo. C x

‘You will be safe with me,’ I say, mouthing the words quietly, emotion burning in my chest, my eyes simmering with emotion. And I pull out a little keyring with a mermaid on the end.

Charlie

I shouldn’t work. Not now on a Monday night when my mind is racing and I’m overtired from the trip.

But I just can’t settle. Suzie is married.

I can’t think why she omitted that piece of information or why she felt she had to keep that part of herself from me.

I want to let it go, but that still really lingers in my mind.

I wouldn’t have thought any differently of her.

We all have histories. Just look at my life.

I’m a pseudo-parent whose biggest concern sometimes is whether I’ve washed the school uniform in time for Monday.

Like some masochist, I go to look at her wedding photo again, even though it’s bitterly painful. She looks angelic, so bloody happy.

Marriages break down for all kinds of reasons but my mind starts to wonder why hers did.

The husband did look like a bit of a dick.

I should wake up Brooke again so she can help me stalk her.

Probably not the healthiest idea I’ve ever had though.

I know where she lives. Do I go around there and have an adult conversation with her?

What if the husband is there and they’re making up and having sex and saving their marriage?

I don’t think my heart would be able to take that.

Everything felt so positive on that airplane back here.

I was literally floating on air. But we have indeed landed back here with the greatest of face-plants.

And here we are again, and there’s no other way to describe it; I feel lost.

I scroll through my phone and look at pictures of the trip.

Lee has asked for the best ones to put on the school website.

The best ones are pictures of her on the roof of the hostel, backlit by the Sevillian sun, her skin glowing and radiant.

But there are also group shots of us and I smile because there is something about my face that looks different.

I look relaxed, and calm there. I should be stressed looking after all these children but the reality is that she’s within arm’s reach and that is enough for me.

I find a picture where my gaze seems to be searching for her in that big group of people, like a puppy.

I don’t know if that’s a bit sad but I can’t think of a time when I’ve ever looked at someone like that.

I find some group photos and scan through them.

We may need to Photoshop one of the kids who has his middle finger up but it’ll do.

I open up my school email and send them to Lee as an attachment .

I don’t know what to do now. I go to the fridge to find some snacks and sit down at the kitchen table.

Perhaps some marking would distract me? I could open PowerPoint and plan a lesson but that all feels a little bleak at this hour and at a time when I should be on holiday mode and asleep.

Maybe I should do some laundry? Maybe I should start baking like Ed from school?

I look at the clock. It’s two in the morning. Do I wake Sam to play Fortnite ?

I probably shouldn’t be eating cheese so late at night either but it’s one of the few foods we have in the house.

I could do an online shop. I could jump in my car and actually go to Tesco because there’s a 24-hour one not far away.

I don’t think that’s a sane idea either.

What do insomniacs usually do? They doom-scroll, binge-watch television, have a wank?

If I did that I would think of her and possibly cry.

God, that would be the saddest thing of all.

You know what, insomniacs have things like lavender sprays to help them sleep.

Do we have any of that in this house? The beauty of this place is that it hasn’t really changed much since Mum and Dad passed, so I head into a drawer where Mum used to put all those medicines and magic elixirs for when we were ill.

Inside there is an old box of pirate plasters that have seen better days, a bottle of Vicks and some Savlon spray she used to put on grazed knees and elbows.

God knows how long that’s been there. I should probably throw it out.

I used to sit on this very counter and she always used to fix me up.

God, she would know what to do with this situation with Suzie.

She’d be sensible and calm and fix it with words.

It’s what she always did. It’ll all come good .

That was what she’d say. I think about that a lot because it didn’t really.

Whatever faith she put in the universe was completely misguided as it took her away from us.

It makes me think that the universe doesn’t really know what it’s doing at all.

That realisation of how much I miss my parents washes over me.

You’ve met a girl, Charlie boy. Tell me all about her, Mum would have said, stood at the cooker, multi-tasking over a pot of something, her ears wide open.

Her name’s Suzie, Mum. You’d like her, I think.

She does this thing where she looks to the sky a lot, whether it’s to look for stars or gazing up to worship the sun.

She’s a great teacher, she makes all the kids laugh.

She shares her food with people, even before she’s taken a bite, and she can’t dance but she names her pens.

She has this infectious laugh. Kind of like yours. I wish you could have met her, Mum.

I sigh deeply. They both would have known what could have got me to sleep.

A knock round the head would have been Dad’s likely solution but Mum would have made a hot drink and given me a hug.

Sometimes I just miss that, a hug, that reassurance.

I don’t want to lose it, not now, in the lonely twilight of this kitchen, so I go back to the hunt for lavender.

I head over to the cupboard under the washing machine.

Quite a fair few pegs, but then I spy a bottle of lavender fabric conditioner.

I open the top and inhale some of the scent. I really am losing my bloody mind.

The silence is suddenly pierced by the sound of my laptop pinging to tell me I’ve received an email.

Is there a part of me that hopes it’s from Suzie?

Possibly. Maybe it’s Lee telling me not to email him in the middle of the night.

I’m not sure I can even blame the one-hour time difference here.

I pray and hope it’s not some parent telling me their kid left their toothbrush in Seville and asking me if there’s anything I can do.

I go over to the computer, my eyes blurry, not really recognising the email address. I click on it. Oh. I sink into the kitchen chair and read on.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Hello Mr Shaw ,

You don’t know me but my name is Paul and I got your email address from the school website.

I am Suzie Callaghan’s husband. I think we may have met briefly at the bus when I went to pick up Suzie this evening.

I could see that you were surprised to see me there tonight and I thought it was important you know the truth about her.

The fact is that eight months ago, Suzie left me.

We lived in Brighton and we were very happy together.

We have a house, we’ve been married for less than two years and we were talking about having children.

All I know is that she just left, she ran away from our life and disappeared.

I don’t think a sane or nice person does that.

Have you met her cousins yet? They’ve had something to do with it, I’m sure, and they’ve blocked all my attempts to get in touch with her.

Now, she’s sent me divorce papers and I have no idea what to do.

I am broken without her. I’ve been at the doctors’ because of the effects on my physical and mental health.

Maybe the warning signs were there. She never changed her name to mine.

She was just using me. I don’t know someone who just leaves like that without facing their problems. My family were so worried about her. She’s completely ghosted us.

I thought it was important you know this information to see what sort of person she is.

Why did she run away? Sometimes I worry it’s because of money or something she did at her school but that’s not how you treat people.

I guess she didn’t tell you I existed because you looked shocked when I called her my wife.

Think why she did that. Seriously, if you two are involved in any way then I would reconsider it.

What other lies has Suzie told you? I’m learning that she’s not a good person – selfish, manipulative and just thinking about herself. Give her a wide berth.

I am sorry to tell you like this.

Paul Glass