Any time he’d failed an exam and had been forced to repeat it, she’d been there, writing out facts and figures for him to learn. She’d turn study sessions into quiz-show games, introducing prizes and buzzers, quick-fire rounds and punishments. She’d dress up in her finery, acting as quiz-show host, assistant, and model, displaying all the fine things he could win if he answered all the questions correctly. Even food shopping at the market was a game. “For this box of popcorn, answer me this,” she’d say.

“Pass,” he’d say, frustrated, trying to grab the box anyway.

“No passing, Lou, you know this one,” she’d say firmly, blocking the shelves.

He often wouldn’t know the answer at first, but she’d make him know it. Somehow she’d push him until he reached deep into a part of his brain that he didn’t know existed and found the answer that he never realized he knew.

They’d planned to go to Australia together after university. A year’s adventure away from Ireland before life started. They spent a year saving for the flights; Lou working as a bartender in Temple Bar while she tended tables. But then he failed his final exams, while Ruth passed with flying colors. He would have packed it in there and then, but she wouldn’t let him, convincing him he could do it, as she always did.

In the year waiting for him to retake his classes, Ruth completed a business master’s degree. Just for something to do. She never once rubbed it in his face or made him feel like a failure. She was always the friend, the girlfriend, the life and soul of every party, the A student and achiever.

So was that when he started resenting her? All the way back then? Was it because he never felt good enough, and this was his way of punishing her? Or maybe there was no psychology behind this; maybe he was just too weak and selfish to say no when an attractive woman so much as looked his way. Because when that happened, he forgot all sense of himself. He knew right from wrong, of course he did, but on those occasions he didn’t particularly care. He was invincible, always thinking there would be no consquences and no repercussions.

Ruth had caught him with the nanny six months ago. There had been only a few times, but Lou knew that if there were levels of wrongness for having affairs, which in his opinion there were, sex with the nanny was pretty high. There had been nobody since then, apart from a fumble with Alison, which had been a mistake. That was one that scored low on the wrongness scale. He’d been drunk, she was attractive, but he regretted it deeply. It didn’t count.

“Lou,” Ruth snapped, breaking into his thoughts and giving him a fright.

He looked over at her. “Morning.” He smiled. “You’ll never guess what I was just thinking ab—”

“Do you not hear that?” she interrupted him.

“Huh?” He turned to his left and noticed the clock had struck six. “Oh, sorry.” He leaned across and switched off the beeping alarm.

He’d clearly done something wrong because her face went a deep red and she fired herself out of bed and charged out of the room. It was only then that he heard Bud’s cries.

“Shit.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“You said a bad wud,” said a little voice from behind the door.

“Morning, Lucy,” he said.

Her figure appeared then, a pink-pajamaed five-year-old, dragging her blanket along the floor behind her, her chocolate-brown hair tousled from her sleep. Her big brown eyes were the picture of concern. She stood at the end of the bed, and Lou waited for her to say something.

“You’re coming tonight, aren’t you, Daddy?”

“What’s tonight?”

“My school play.”

“Oh yeah, that, sweetie; you don’t really want me to go to that, do you?”

She nodded.

“But why?” He rubbed his eyes again. “You know how busy Daddy is; it’s very hard for me to get there.”

“But I’ve been practicing.”

“Why don’t you show me now, and then I won’t have to see you later.”

“But I’m not wearing my costume.”

“That’s okay. I’ll use my imagination. Mum always says it’s good to do that, doesn’t she?” He kept an eye on the door to make sure Ruth wasn’t listening. “And you can do it for me while I get dressed, okay?”

He threw the covers off and, as Lucy started prancing around, he rushed around the room, throwing on sweats and a T-shirt in which to work out.

“Daddy, you’re not looking!”

“I am, sweetheart. Come downstairs to the gym with me. There are lots of mirrors there for you to practice in front of. That’ll be fun, won’t it?”

A few minutes later he was on the treadmill. He turned on the TV and started watching Sky News, hardly noticing his daughter performing for him.

“Daddy, you’re not looking.”

“I am, sweetie.” He glanced at her once. “What are you playing?”

“A leaf. It’s a windy day and I fall off the tree and I have to go like this.” She twirled around the gym and Lou looked back at the TV.

“What’s a leaf got to do with Jesus?”

She shrugged, and he had to laugh.

“Will you come to see me tonight, pleeeease?”

“Yep,” he said, wiping his face on a towel.

“Promise?”

“Absolutely,” he said dismissively. “Okay, you go back up to your mum now. I’ve to take a shower.”

TWENTY MINUTES LATER AND ALREADY in work mode, Lou went into the kitchen to say a quick good-bye to everyone. Bud was in his high chair, rubbing banana into his hair; Lucy was sucking on a spoon and watching cartoons at top volume; and Ruth was in her nightgown making Lucy’s school lunch. She looked exhausted.

“Bye.” He kissed Lucy on the head; she didn’t budge, completely engrossed in her cartoon. He hovered above Bud, trying to find a place on his face that wasn’t covered in food. “Eh, bye.” He pecked him awkwardly on the top of his head. Then he made his way around to Ruth.

“Do you want to meet me there at six or go together from here?”

“Where?”

“The school.”

“Oh. About that.” He lowered his voice.

“You have to go; you promised.” She stopped buttering the bread to look at him in anger.

“Lucy showed me the dance downstairs and we had a talk, so she’s fine about me not being there.” He picked at a slice of ham on the cutting board. “Do you know why the hell she’s a leaf in a nativity play?”

Ruth laughed. “Lou, I know you’re playing with me. I told you to put this in your diary last month. And then I reminded you last week, and I called that woman Tracey at the office—”

“Ah, that’s what happened.” He clicked his fingers in a gosh-darn-it kind of way. “Wires crossed. Tracey’s gone. Alison replaced her. So maybe there was a problem when they switched over.” He tried to say it playfully, but Ruth’s face of disappointment, hatred, and disgust, all rolled into one, stopped him.

“I mentioned it twice last week. I mentioned it yesterday morning. I’m like a frigging parrot with you, and you still don’t remember. The school play tonight and then dinner with your mum, dad, Alexandra, and Quentin. And Marcia might be coming, if she can move around her therapy session.”

“No, she really shouldn’t miss that.” Lou rolled his eyes. “Ruthy, please, I would rather stick pins in my eyes than have dinner with them.”

“They’re your family, Lou.”

“All Quentin talks about are boats. Boats, boats, and more bloody boats. It is totally beyond him to think of any other conversation that doesn’t involve the words boom and cleat.”

“You used to love sailing with Quentin.”

“I used to love sailing. Not necessarily with Quentin, and that was years ago.” He groaned. “And Marcia…it’s not therapy she needs, it’s a good kick in the ass.”

“Tough,” Ruth said, continuing with her lunch making. “Lucy is expecting you at the play, your parents are excited, and I need you here. I can’t do the dinner and play host all on my own.”

“Mum will help you.”

“Your mother just had a hip replacement.” Ruth was straining to keep her voice down.