Den came back from Australia in mid-August, deeply tanned and leaner than I’d ever seen him. I became immediately aware of my podgy stomach.

“When do I get to meet Wonderwoman?” he asked.

I’d gone straight round to his flat when he phoned to tell me he was home. “Whenever you like. She can’t wait to meet you, either. God knows why.”

Den laughed. “Did you show her my photos?”

“One or two of them.”

“It’s obviously my physique she can’t resist.”

He was joking, of course, but I felt little shudders of discomfort in my abdomen.

“Come and see us later on, if you like,” I said. “I’ll order a pizza.”

“You’ve not got Alexa cooking for you, then?”

“I haven’t ‘got her’ doing anything. Alexa and I are equal partners.”

“Of course you are – don’t be so touchy. I’ve got used to the Aussie sense of humour. No-one pulls their punches over there.”

He’d even acquired a hint of the accent, I noticed. “So – come round whenever you like,” I said. “We’ll be in all day.”

“Okay. I’ll grab a few hours’ sleep first. We’ll need plenty of pizza – I’ve got twice the appetite I had before.”

“Have you?”

“Oh yes. That’s what the open air and the Australian sunshine does for you.”

“But it’s winter there at the moment.”

“Still plenty of sunshine. See you later, mate.”

Alexa was on edge all day. I could hear it in her playing – the way she chose loud splashy pieces and didn’t stop to go back over things the way she usually did in her morning practice. She played some unfamiliar stuff, too – did that mean she was composing again?

I had the full day off work and I’d meant to do some painting but couldn’t settle to it. The sense of security that had pervaded my flat ever since Alexa moved in had dissipated, leaving only tatters of it like coloured ribbons in the treetops the day after the fęte.

“You’re restless today. Did you remember your tablets?” asked Alexa.

“Of course I did.” This was not strictly a lie – I’d remembered my lithium but decided to do without it for a day. I used to kid myself that forgoing a dose gave me an extra surge of energy, useful in a crisis. It was a technique I often employed when at a tricky stage with a painting. A day or so without medication seemed to bring my imagination alive. Strictly against doctor’s orders, of course – but I’d never gone longer than three days without, not since Alexa had moved in. It wouldn’t be fair on her, I told myself. Especially while Den was away and she would have to deal with any trouble on her own.

She started rustling through her music and I said, “You seem pretty restless yourself. What is it – the excitement of meeting my brother?”

She gave an annoyed little cough. “Not especially. Though I am quite curious about Den, after all you’ve told me.”

“Okay, okay. Only teasing you.”

There was a definite atmosphere between us, which was most unusual. She started to bang away at something by Mozart that she normally played with more finesse.

I must have given a little groan because she stopped after a minute or so, looked round at me with a frown and said, “I’m sorry, is my playing annoying you?”

“Of course not. You know I love to hear you play.”

“You made a funny noise.”

“I’ve got a bit of a headache. Sorry.”

She banged down the lid and got up from her stool. “Why didn’t you say?”

“I don’t like to interfere with your practice.”

“It’s not that important. It’s not as though I’m practising for anything in particular.”

“No, but still…”

“I don’t suppose I’ll ever perform again. Not properly.”

“Of course you will.”

“I’m not even sure I want to. Maybe I should give up the piano altogether.”

“But you love it.”

“I used to.”

I moved closer. “What’s put you in this mood?”

“I’m not in a mood.”

“I can put Den off, if you like. We’ll see him another day instead.”

“I want to see him. Anyway, you’re the one with the headache. I’m fine.” Ignoring my outstretched arms she moved to the sofa and flopped down there, her back to me.

I was in the bathroom when Den rang the bell, so it was Alexa who let him in and I missed the moment their eyes first met. Perhaps that was just as well – I’m sure something flashed between them. A moment of recognition or whatever they call it – souls clicking together before brains have time to engage. If I’d seen it happen, it would haunt me still. As it was, when I emerged, Den was already on the sofa, relaxed in his new super-hero guise, with Alexa offering him a beer.

Her eyes were bright – too bright – as they had been all day. As though she knew. Her cheeks were pink; my mother would have diagnosed a fever and run for the mysterious bottle labelled ‘tonic’ which lurked, sticky and ancient, on the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard.

Den uncoiled when he saw me and leapt up to give me a hug. He and I have never been restrained in expressing our affection physically – not since the nights as children when he took me into his bed as I sobbed over my latest nightmare. Nothing funny, of course – don’t get the wrong idea. Just two kids cuddling up together for comfort. And now two blokes greeting each other after a long separation. Or that’s how it should have been, if I hadn’t been so paranoid.

“You okay, Jake?” He can always tell.

“I’m fine. You?”

He gave a deep sigh of well-being. “Never better, now I’ve caught up on some sleep.”

Alexa presented him with a glass of lager.

“Cheers, Alexa.”

It was odd, hearing him address her by name. Almost too intimate. Or maybe it was the way he said it, rolling the sound in his mouth like choice wine. I longed for the old Den, pale-faced and with a body like mine. This newcomer scared me. He smelt odd, too – an unfamiliar animal scent. Something he’d picked up on the plane perhaps – though it would be unlike Den not to have showered and changed before coming round.

“You’re welcome.” Alexa said it slowly, catching his eye and holding his gaze for a few seconds. Did she always do this when she spoke to people? Or when she spoke to men? Was it just the attractive ones – the ones she fancied? Or was it just Den?

Snap out of it, Jake, I told myself. This is rubbish thinking, the kind you’ve learned not to indulge in. You’ve not tortured yourself with these kind of thoughts for years – not since Mum, not since school, not since the girl who might have been your girlfriend, aged fourteen.

But the cold fingers were grasping my gut and squeezing until they bruised. Then up they went into my lungs, making it almost impossible to breathe.

I glanced at Den but he hadn’t noticed anything. Alexa was asking him about Australia and he had launched into a long anecdote about a sheep farm where he’d worked. Den is a mean story-teller when he gets going and she was already laughing.

I’d have given anything to be able to relax and join in. Just to be normal, an ordinary guy chatting with his partner and his brother, sharing a joke, bonding into a friendly threesome.

Alexa turned to me, as innocent as Den of what was going on in my head. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to go to Australia, wouldn’t you, Jake?”

I had to clear my throat before I could reply. Den gave me a quick glance but seemed to satisfy himself that all was well.

“Yes, maybe we should save up and go,” I managed to say.

“I think we should. I’d love to see Uluru and the outback. And Sydney, of course, and Perth. Let’s all go together, as soon as we’ve saved up. Den can show us round.”

Den gave his Aussie grin, teeth flashing white against his golden tan. “Sounds good to me. But you two might be better on your own. Wouldn’t want to play gooseberry between you.”

Alexa gave a peculiar, worrying little laugh in dismissal of this idea. “No, don’t be silly. Jake and I wouldn’t know where to begin, on our own in that enormous continent.”

My voice came out full of irritation. “I don’t see it happening in the next ten years, anyway, not with the current state of our finances.”

Alexa’s happy bubble burst, her smile giving way to disappointment and hurt. “We’ll just have to try a bit harder then, won’t we?” She glared at me before turning back to Den. “I’ll get some more piano students. I’m sure we can do it if we want to.”

“Of course you can,” said Den, his voice smooth and neutral. Perhaps he thought Alexa and I had an ongoing dispute about holidays and how much they cost. He was being careful and diplomatic – not getting involved. Working on becoming a perfect brother-in-law.

After a short pause, he changed the subject. “Tell me about your music, Alexa. I gather you’re pretty good?”

Alexa’s face wrinkled into a smirk that was most unlike her. Usually she takes compliments, especially about her music, in her stride. The faint blush on her cheeks was uncharacteristic, too, and set off the icy clasping fingers inside me once again.

“So you play piano and violin?” Den asked.

“Yes – piano’s my main instrument. I play classical guitar, too, though not particularly well. And I used to sing, though I haven’t done much for years.”

“Wow.”

“Not really wow. I missed my chance years ago. Wanted to be a composer back then but I… well, I messed things up.”

“No you didn’t.” My jealousy was forgotten for a minute. “Someone messed them up for you. It wasn’t your fault at all.”

“I should have coped better than I did. But you don’t want to hear all that, Den.”

Den shrugged. “It’s up to you. Tell you what, though – I’d love to hear you play.”

“Okay.”

I was surprised – she was normally reluctant for fear people were asking out of politeness. She was getting to her feet when the bell rang.

“That’ll be the pizza,” I said.

“Good,” said Alexa. “I play better when I’m not hungry. Hang on – do we have enough money in the jar?”

Den said,” Let me pay,” and Alexa blushed.

“We’re not short of money,” I said, the note of irritation creeping back. “It’s just a matter of where it is.” I drew a twenty-pound note from my pocket and held it out to Alexa. She frowned – had she wanted to accept Den’s offer? Normally she was as proud as I was about paying our way.

Alexa paid the delivery boy and Den and I followed her to the kitchen to unpack our supper. My jealousy is often soothed, at least for a time, by food. I could be a candidate later in life for a serious weight problem.

We tore off hunks of pizza with various toppings and piled up our plates. Or at least, Jake and I did. Alexa took only a single slice and added a couple of tomatoes from the bowl. Bugger Den, I thought – is he even going to stop her enjoying her food?

“You’re not eating much,” Den told her.

“Oh, I’ll probably go for seconds.”

“Don’t leave it too long or there’ll be none left.” As if to prove his point, he took an enormous bite and almost choked on it.

“Excuse my brother’s manners,” I said.

Alexa grinned at Den as though they were sharing some kind of secret.

The pizza was good and I felt a lot better after eating it and drinking a couple of beers. Alcohol usually helps, too, though I’m supposed to go easy – very easy – on it.

“This is great,” said Den as he put his plate down on the upturned box we used for a coffee-table. “The three of us. All we need now is for me to find a girlfriend.”

I waited, and sure enough, Alexa said, “I’m sure that won’t take you long.” Her eyes were full of laughter but I knew she meant it.

Den grinned back. “Well, thanks. Pity you’re already taken. Do you have any sisters?”

She was enjoying this. “I’m afraid not.” Another smile.

Den glanced at me – checking I was okay with their flirting? “I’d better be careful – Jake can get pretty mad when he’s roused.”

I knew he meant ‘mad’ in the sense of angry, but I didn’t like it, nor the way Alexa looked at me almost protectively – with a motherly concern that grated. She’d never looked at me that way before. We were equals, Alexa and I – that was one of the things I valued most about our relationship.

Much later, when Den had gone and I was brushing my teeth, Alexa hovered at the bathroom door and said, “I like Den.”

I spat toothpaste into the basin. “I could tell.”

She put her head on one side. “You seem a bit on edge, Jake.”

“No. Not really.”

“Nothing’s wrong, is it?”

I turned the tap on full to wash down the basin. “Of course not. Why should there be?”

“You didn’t mind, did you, the way Den teased me?”

“Of course not. I’m used to him. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Of course it doesn’t. I realised that.”

I scowled at my reflection in the mirror. “So what’s the problem?”

“There isn’t a problem.”

“Good. Let’s go to bed, then.”

I’d hoped a lovemaking session would banish my sore feelings, but Alexa wasn’t interested. She said she was happy to do it ‘if I really wanted to’, but she felt rather tired. More condescension of a kind she’d never shown me before.

She fell asleep almost immediately but I lay awake for over an hour. In the end I slid out of bed and went to work on my painting. With a few swift, angry strokes I transformed the semi-abstract seascape I’d been working on, turning the serene blue mass of water into a cold, sullen, heaving swell I could drown in, or at least be tossed around by, until the white-hot searing flames in my chest were extinguished.

It didn’t quite work, but I lost myself for a while and came out calmer and cleaner.

No one, including me, has ever liked the thing that painting turned into. I considered destroying it, but it remained wrapped and hidden under my bed for years.