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was doing and risk losing his life with his son.
    The answer, of course, though Stephanie didn't know it, was that James had never for a moment imagined he might be discovered. Such was the gulf between his life with Stephanie and his life with Katie that it had never crossed his mind that they might collide. He had no intention of leaving his wife, just as he had no intention of giving up his girlfriend. It wasn't his fault that Stephanie had grown bored of their life in the country and that she sometimes worked late, and he found Katie's dogged devotion and non-judgemental outlook relaxing. Sometimes he thought his life had become over-complicated, that the effort of having to remember to make up stories about his time in Lincoln and his exploits in London was a bit of a strain, but all in all he wouldn't have changed it. It suited him.
    Given his time again — and the ability to consider his behaviour with rational foresight — of course he wouldn't have made the same choices. Whatever he had done in his life he would never have set out consciously to hurt Stephanie and Finn. But life didn't work like that, allowing you to jump cut to the future and witness the consequences of your actions. Things just happened and you made your choices as you went along, hoping blindly thateverything would turn out OK. And, on balance, he thought it had.
    Just before one James kissed Stephanie goodbye, got into the car and began the long drive up to Lincolnshire.

6
    On Sunday evenings Katie always had a welcoming hot dinner waiting for James. A homemade lasagne or a chicken and mushroom pie. She thought it was important to make home as homely as possible, to make it a retreat, a sanctuary that James would yearn to escape to after the stresses of city life. Once the food was under control she bathed and redid her makeup, lit candles and plumped cushions. On warmish nights, like this one, she laid the table in the garden, lit the gas heater and put a bottle of white wine in the cooler. She hated that one of James's two days off was always given over to travelling. He worked too hard. Life, in Katie's opinion, should not be all about work.
    Down in London he lodged with his friends Peter and Abi, and would always come home with funny stories about their latest row or some culinary disaster Abi had had. She was a terrible cook but, James said, she liked to believe she was an earth mother, nourishing those around her. He slept on the put-me-up in Peter's study and one night it had collapsed underneath him, he'd told her, waking the whole household. In the past Katie had tried to persuade him to drive home on a Saturday but it was the only day he got to see his son, Finn, who, she thought, was seven — or was it eight? She'd seen photos of him, an adorable boy with a gappy-toothed smile. Dark-hairedand brown-eyed which he must get from his mother because James was fair. She loved that James wanted to spend whatever time he could with his son.
    James's ex-wife Stephanie lived in London now — it was the move down there that had put the final nail in the coffin that was their marriage, he always said. He hated having to spend time away from the fresh air and the farming people he felt most comfortable with. They had had an acrimonious divorce, which had left James with no money to live anywhere other than the smelly old flat above the vet's. Stephanie had kept their lovely London home, as far as Katie knew. James rarely talked about her. When he went to pick up Finn on a Saturday Stephanie was always out, leaving Finn in the care of the nanny, Cassie, so they rarely even exchanged a few words these days apparently. Any news of his son was passed via notes or using Cassie as a go-between. Katie was hoping that James would soon think the time was right for Finn to come up for a visit. She loved kids and was dying to meet him, knowing he'd fall in love with her instantly because children always did, and James would see what a happy family they'd