Tragedy lies in the details. For the first time today, T did not use let himself into our home, he rang the bell, and I felt the love in my heart begin to make way to a deep, cold hurt. It feels like nothing can stop the spiral of grief, guilt and resentment that is hurtling us apart at terrifying speed. We need to urgently discuss looking after the children and money, but the situation is so loaded, it practically feels like a day out in Kashmir. And to think that a couple of months ago, we were discussing the best timing to have a third baby feels as unreal as the Queen popping round for a cup of tea… The same obsessing question keeps going round my head: How?