The clock had barely ticked past midnight when a gentle voice cut through the darkness.

“What are you doing?”

A pause. The shuffle of papers.

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” A soft sigh.

“I couldn’t sleep, could I?”

“You know I woke up and found you gone. I was worried.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re far from it.”

“Don’t. Don’t you do that.” The words came sharper now, with the bite of a man holding something back. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind. That’s all there is to it.”

“Like what?”

The answer came with a bitter laugh — part frustration, part exhaustion. “Like getting this VAT sorted. If I don’t do it, they’ll slap a fine on me. I tell you what — if this paperwork doesn’t send me to sleep, nothing will.”

A gentle shift in tone. An olive branch.

“Hey. You’re making a run to the shop, aren’t you? I know how much you like their Milk Tray.”

“Yeah.” A moment’s warmth. “And can I have some cake to go with it?”

“Of course. Absolutely.”

A phone call ended. Routine. But the tension lingered.

“Mrs. Croch, pecking my head. Honestly, you’d think she’d have better things to do.”

“What does she want?”

“She thinks I should take some time off.”

A thoughtful pause. “Well, you’ve been under a lot of pressure. It might help, you know. Give you time to reflect.”

“I think that’s probably the worst thing I could do right now.” The voice hardened. “Ruminate on my bad decisions.”

“Look, that run-in you had with Megan… you were absolutely incandescent.”

“Yeah.”

The conversation shifted, but the undercurrent stayed. A door opened somewhere, letting in the morning light.

“Hey. You should have seen Hope this morning. She couldn’t wait to get off to school.”

“Really? That’s not a sentence I hear every day.”

“She did her homework, too. A poem — like you said. And to be fair, it was absolutely fantastic. I didn’t realize she had that in her. Had to step out into the yard, you know, take a few deep breaths.”

“It’s amazing what a young child can achieve when they set their mind to it.”

“I’ll see you later, then.”

“You’re a good teacher, Daniel. Stay strong. Keep a calm head on your shoulders.”

The name hung in the air. A moment of recognition passed between them.

“Well, when I first heard, I just assumed it must have been an accident.”

“Yeah. Same here.” The voice dropped. “You know, every time I go and put the bins out the back, I just think of him. Lying there.”

“Just awful when something like that happens so close to home, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

A new voice entered the scene. Lighter on the surface, but no less troubled underneath.

“Oh, me and Gary bumped into Summer yesterday. She was in such a state.”

“Everyone’s got a breaking point.”

“I know. We’ll have to make sure we keep a close eye on her.”

“Yeah. Definitely. She needs her mates. Right. Anyway, thank you. See you later. Take care, Asha.”

Asha departed, and the mask slipped again. Urgency crept in — hushed, conspiratorial.

“I’ve been thinking… I think we should go back to the police.”

“We were only there yesterday. They’re probably sick of the sight of me.”

“Anyway, we can’t talk about this here.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

A glance across the room. A warning.

“Because Lily doesn’t miss a trick. That one — I mean, she might look like she hasn’t got a thought in her head, but trust me, her ears will be flapping.”

The whispers stopped. Footsteps approached.

“What are you two whispering about?”

A beat. A sharp recovery. The answer came too fast, wrapped in false levity.

“Oh, nothing. Just secret sexy time with a red-blooded male and his lady wife.”

The laugh was hollow. The secret hung in the air, undiscussed, unfinished. A dead man in the alley. A woman unraveling. A child who wrote poetry like a dream. And a stack of VAT forms that had become the least of anyone’s worries.

Some nights, you can’t put things on paper. Some things, you can’t put to sleep at all.