‘Silence falls, then a strange staccato sound fills the room’

HOME, 7pm, up in the cabin and our architect has just left. My husband and I are sitting at the kitchen table, scrutinising three sets of floor-plans.

“I like this one,” I say, pulling out drawing 3, “it incorporates all the elements I want there to be in our new house. Look, I can put all my frames on that long wall, there.” But I am talking to the top of his head, which for some reason is deeply bowed over his knees.

“I like that one too,” he says from underneath the table.