What?” One eye peeped open.
“Abdominal breathing,” she explained, but from the two vertical lines appearing over the bridge of his nose Emma knew she was talking to the hopelessly unconverted.
“You don’t move your chest,” Emma explained. “Remember when Alex was
a baby and you watched her sleep?”
The frown faded a touch, a small smile lifting one edge of his mouth.“Babies know how to relax,” Emma said. “They instinctively know how to
breathe properly.” “Like this?” Alex asked, dragging in air, and Emma watched as he struggled with the concept. His stomach was moving but so too was his chest.
“Almost. Look, I’ll help you. Just push against my hand.” Sitting up slightly, she instinctively moved to correct him. She’d shown this to numerous friends,knew how to show him simply, but her movements were hesitant, her hand tentative as it reached out towards him, hovered over the flat plane of his stomach, knowing, knowing where this could lead, wanting to pull back, to end
this dangerous game,
