Before.

Time with her flies as if sucked into a vortex. She is my world now. Work can wait. Lydia can wait. She doesn’t understand our connection. How could she? She’s never had what we have.

Her sweet voice drifts upstairs with her, that song she sings when she’s scared. But there’s no need to be scared now. I’ll protect her.

‘I had a nightmare,’ she says, like perfume for the ears. ‘Can I sleep in here? Just once.’

‘Of course, darling,’ I say, scooting over to make room.

‘This is it, Graeme,’ says Lydia, somewhere in the background. ‘I’m leaving.’

‘It’s okay. Everyone has nightmares sometimes. They can’t hurt you.’

The door slams. It’s co...

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