Adam never neglected any novelty and the Meccano was certainly that. Hunter had never known him play with the stuff before. He picked it up too stunned in the moment to imagine doing otherwise. He carried it in the cradle of his hands back up the stairs. And he opened the door on an empty bed, still warm, in an empty room. The grief in the roar that left his lungs woke Elizabeth like the prod of a tender wound. She rose and flung the covers back and ran out to the source of the sound. He turned to her. He had the complex thing Adam had built the day before held tightly to his chest. She was vaguely aware that she was naked. But she had the feeling that beyond the tears filming his eyes, Mark was seeing only Adam’s absence from their visible world. She needed to take charge. He was strong in other circumstances. He knew only one fear in his life, one loss. And it had happened now and he was unmanned by it. She walked across to him. She wrenched the childish object out of his grip. She slapped him hard across the face, again and again, until the glaze of shock left his features.
