Nathan’s DS. He ran his hand over the broken lock, rough splinters sticking out. He snagged one on his finger, flinched, but then pushed his finger on to it until he saw a spot of blood appear. ‘How was it?’ Ruth behind him. He sucked at his finger and turned. ‘OK.’ Mark looked past her to the living room. Nathan was on the sofa, head down, immersed in his fantasy world. Maybe that’s how he’d get through all this, live in the Star Wars universe till it was safe to come back to reality. ‘How have things been here?’ He and Lauren used to have a routine, every day when she came in from work. How was your day, dear? Nice day at the office, dear? Not funny, not a joke, but just a way of saying, amongst it all, that they were still close. They were mocking the emotionally distant husband and wife cliché of seventies sitcoms that they both vaguely remembered. Ruth turned to look at Nathan. ‘Great,’ she said.
