She buzzed him twice before he answered, her heart hammering in her throat.

"Hello?" he answered over the speaker.

"Judas, Ross! It's me," she said slightly out of breath.

"Oh yes, I'm sorry." He sounded distracted. "I'll let you in."

Demelza heard the familiar click of the door and hurried inside. Taking the stairs two at a time in her stiletto. She hadn't taken the time to change her shoes. As soon as she had received her ex-husband's text, she had run to her car with barely a word to Hugh.

Jeremy has a fever

That's all the text had said, but it had been enough to freeze all the blood in her veins.

Ross was waiting by the door when she reached his floor.

"How is he?" She didn't waste time with formalities.

"He's alright. He's in his bed. I have been monitoring him." He ran his hand through his wild mane, his eyes a bit too wide, the ghost of another child floating in his mind, as Demelza pushed her way inside. "It is only 38 degrees, but even so I thought I should keep you informed."

She made her way to her son's bedroom. Ross' home hadn't changed much since he moved there four years after his split with Elizabeth. It still looked as empty and drab as ever. The walls were the same off-white as the day he came in and his furniture was practical and expensive, but nothing else. There were no colors, no pillows or throw blankets, no art on the walls, as if no one really lived there. Demelza had always found the place depressing. Had he secretly hated her decorating when they were married? Was this more to his taste?

As she approached Jeremy's room, she noticed Valentine running up and down the corridor, a toy airplane in his hands.

"Vroom vroom!" the toddler was screaming his lungs out.

"Valentine's here?" she asked.

"Elizabeth and George are away for the weekend." Ross swallowed and looked at the floor as if he expected some kind of reproach from her, but she said nothing. That was all in the past.

Demelza opened the door to Jeremy's room to find her son huddled in a ball in his bed, his hair damped around his face, his nose a little too red. His eyes were closed, but he was not sleeping. The television in his room was opened to Peter Rabbit's latest adventures. She sat on the mattress and put her hand to his forehead. It was too warm and sweaty, but not burning hot.

"Jeremy, how are you feeling, my lover?"

"Mama!" Jeremy whined as he opened his eyes and looked at her, his eyes were slightly red. "I'm too hot."

"I know." She rubbed his back and the boy coughed. "It's a nasty cold you've got."

Jeremy swallowed a whimper.

"But the good news is you won't be going to school on Monday, that's for sure and certain."

"Really?" He seemed to brighten at that.

"You're staying with your papa and watching the tele all day instead. Only because you're ill. You can take Monday off?" She turned to Ross who was watching them from the foot of the bed.

"Yes, of course." He was smiling. "We'll watch as much tele as you want."

Jeremy nodded and sniffled before Demelza took out a tissue from her purse and held it to his nose.

"Blow," she ordered just as Valentine barged into the room, his airplane still in his hands.

"Vroom vroom!"

The child barely had time to cross the threshold before Ross caught him in his grip, his tone firm as he said, "Valentine, I told you to stay out!"

For a second, the boy went quiet in his father's arms. His eyes round and wide, he just stared at Ross. Then his lower lip started to wobble, his eyes filled with tears, and an ears piercing scream came out of his tiny little mouth. His face was blotched red in a matter of seconds. Ross only continued to hold him, looking lost as to what to do as Valentine contorted his body around in abject despair.

"It's alright V," Jeremy said, and his little brother's trashing stopped. "Papa doesn't mean to be mad. He just don't want you to get sick like me."

Valentine's only answer was to offer his airplane with a little sniffle of his own, his hand sticky with a mix of tears and saliva. "For you."

Demelza took it from him and handed it to her son. "Thank you, Valentine. That's very kind of you to share your toys with Jeremy. Now, why don't you go play in the living room with your papa?"

"I want to play with Jeje." Ross seeming to detect another tantrum coming, wisely chose to step outside the bedroom, promising the boy sweets to keep him quiet. Demelza only hoped he did not use these kind of tactics with Jeremy.

She stayed with her son a little bit longer and by the time she came out of the bedroom, Valentine seemed to have moved on to playing with an electric piano while Ross watched him from the kitchenette. Or he might have been trying to make music himself, banging pots and frying pans as he was.

"Chicken noodle soup is good for colds," he said without looking at her. "I remember it was your remedy for it. I believe I have a can of it somewhere if I can only get my hands on it."

For the first time, Demelza noticed his appearance. His curls were untidy, flying around him as he opened cupboards and drawers. He was wearing jeans and a grey shirt that looked rumpled and slept in. He probably hadn't showered today or even yesterday.

"There!" Ross exclaimed, handing her what seemed to be an off-brand can of soup whose sodium content she was sure to disapprove of. "I knew I had one here."

Demelza simply shook her head. "You're not feeding him that."

His face fell, and he gave her his familiar scowl.

"You're taking a shower," she continued. "And then you're going grocery shopping, so I can cook all of you a proper supper."

"Absolutely not. I can't ask that of you. It is my turn to watch him, Demelza. It is your day off and…" He stopped there and seemed to take in her stiletto shoes, her silky green dress, and pretty chignon. He swallowed. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise you had a…As I said, I can handle this myself. You should…"

"He's my son," she interrupted. The last thing she wanted was to discuss her date with her ex-husband. "You're not asking me to do anything, Ross. I'm telling you. Now, off you go in that shower of yours."

Ross sighed and looked down at himself. "I suppose I should. I expect I must smell rather ripe." He chuckled, but it fell flat.

"I didn't say anything." She meant it as a joke to put him at ease, but it came out coy even flirtatious. She blamed it on the stress of the night's events. Ross thankfully seemed oblivious as usual. She cleared her throat. "I'll make you a list."

Ross headed for the bathroom and Demelza wrote down the list of ingredients she would need when she noticed that the apartment had been quiet for some time. She looked up from her writing to see Valentine a colour marker in his hand, adding a pretty shade of blue to the walls of Ross' place. It seemed they both found it too drab.

"Judas, Valentine!" she called. The boy looked at her questioningly. "Walls are not for drawing."

"I like balloons," was the child's answer.

"I like balloons too." She sighed.

"Mama got me balloons on my birthday." Demelza bristled at the mention of Elizabeth. She wondered when it would stop hurting. You would think five years would be enough time to move on.

"That's nice." Demelza looked around the living room for some paper, finally finding a pile of used ones in the rubbish bin. "You can draw on this paper, but not on the walls."

"No!"

"You can draw on the paper or not at all," Demelza said, used to negotiating with toddlers. Valentine stared at her, seeming to gauge her before throwing the marker on the floor and going back to the electric piano in the middle of the room.

At that moment, Ross came out of Jeremy's bedroom, looking as frayed as he did before, but slightly cleaner.

"His fever is the same," he told her worriedly. Demelza nodded. Memories of Julia hung between them. Her burning skin, the cold water in the tub, the sterile smell of the hospital, her cries.

"He just has a cold. It'll come down," she answered with more assurance than she felt.

"What is this?" he asked pointing at the wall behind her.

"Someone was feeling artistic." She gave a pointed look in Valentine's direction, but the boy took no notice of them, lost in his music.

"I see," Ross said. "I suppose it brightens up the place. I need all the help I can get with that."

"I thought you liked the place like this. Modern."

"Cold, you mean?" He shook his head. "No, but I never had the eye for it. That was always more your domain than mine."

"Oh." There was an awkward pause after that.

"You have the list for me," Ross asked breaking the silence.

"Oh yes." She got the list from the kitchen counter and handed to him.

"Then I will be off." He put on his dark coat, stuffing the list in his pockets. She had always loved his coat. The way it made him look like the hero in one of those BBC dramas. It used to make her heart flutter. She remembered being sixteen and wrapping herself in it, pretending.

She heard the door click behind him. Jeremy coughed, and Valentine made shooting noises with his fingers. She really shouldn't be having these kind of thoughts anymore.

Her mobile beeped. A message from Hugh. She didn't answer.