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‘She’s a different kettle of fish. Much more regimented than the boys are used to. George says they have to count their chews before each swallow.’

Millie snorted.

‘Anyway, the boys rebelled, so Robyn is doing a play date with them every week to ease the transition.’

Millie pointed at the calendar.

‘Is it every Wednesday by any chance?’

Reggie had written FUN in felt pen every Wednesday in his childish handwriting.

‘How could you tell?’ They both laughed.

‘Stay for dinner?’ he asked. Half wanting her to, to distract him from whatever Robyn was doing with Finn, and half hoping Millie would leave so that he could message her or, better yet, pop over.

‘Love to. Need any help?’

Fox opened the fridge and was pleased to see a homemade shepherd’s pie stashed there as per his instructions. He peeled off the tin foil and opened the bin, at which point his pleasure disappeared – Fiona hadn’t even bothered to hide the fact that she’d cooked with a vegan mince substitute. He sighed. No doubt it was healthier, but he wanted meat. He was really going to have to talk to Fiona about doing things his way – just as soon as he plucked up the courage.

‘No, you go, hang out with the boys. I’ll call you when it’s ready.’ Millie didn’t need a second invitation and ran off to find her nephews, which gave Fox the chance to grab his phone and dash a quick message to Robyn.

Fox: You okay?

The ticks went blue a moment later.

Robyn: Better than okay actually. But thanks for checking. X

Fox frowned. What did that mean? His fingers hovered over his phone, wanting to say more, but unsure as to what. He didn’t want to seem nosy, but he really wanted to know what had happened. A few minutes later, the oven timer dinged and then there was no time to think about it any more. Dinner was on the table, the boys were noisy and starving and excited to see Millie. Later, he promised himself. He’d message her later.

When the plates had been scraped clean and the table wiped, the boys trailed upstairs to clean their teeth. Fox and Millie fell into easy chat about the game, her job, her next trip to Paris – which would be her last before Christmas. And then that led into his Christmas visit – she was hosting this year – and what he could bring, apart from two overexcited, oversugared and overtired boys.

He told her about how much the boys were enjoying the new forest club that Robyn was running at school, and showed her the things they had made so far: spray-painted Christmas pine cones, pictures made from leaves.

When Millie asked, Fox explained the improvements the boys had made to the den and the new swing Robyn had tied with a sturdy plaited rope.

And when Fox told Millie about why the boys wanted pebbles for Christmas, she smiled and said, ‘She’s really made an impact, hasn’t she?’

Fox nodded and stole a glance out the window, his heart jumping into his throat as he saw the lights were on in the pool house. Great, that meant she was home safe and sound. But wait. What the hell? His spine practically bristled, vertebra by vertebra, as he spotted Finn inside the house, silhouetted against the window. What the fuck was he doing there?

‘Ready, Daddy!’ the boys screamed down the stairs and he and Millie both headed up, ready to share goodnight stories.

‘I love this bit,’ Millie said. ‘When they are too tired to say no and I get to kiss them ten times over.’

A noise sounded beside them as they padded across the landing, which sounded strangely like a wine bottle opening with the pop of a cork. Millie laughed.

‘Bit young for that, aren’t they?’

The sound of wine pouring followed, that very distinctive glug. Millie frowned in confusion, but Fox had already realised where the sound was coming from. The baby monitor was on the landing, between the two boys’ bedrooms, so that Fox would hear right away if either of them called out for him. He’d kept it here the last few weeks for whenever he snuck over to Robyn’s in the garden, taking the other receiver with him.

The realisation hit him like a truck. He’d taken it over last night and placed it on Robyn’s coffee table, next to that bottle of wine, and then he’d forgotten about it, too distracted by one of the best nights of his life. And now, here he was, listening in to the conversation in Robyn’s front room. Sure enough, a second later, he heard her voice, murmuring, ‘She’s asleep.’

And then Finn saying, ‘Great. Time for wine then. You don’t mind I opened the bottle?’

There was a sound of agreement from Robyn.

Millie stopped dead.

‘Who’s that?’ she whispered, pointing at the monitor.