I’m losing the baby. It’s my fault. I should have got the baby’s room ready and acted like I wanted to be a mum. For weeks, Emma has been telling me to ring her midwife, but I kept coming up with excuses. I should have faced up to the pregnancy like a sensible adult instead of ignoring it like some immature teenager.

I pull up my shorts and numbly retrieve my phone from the bedroom. I stand in the hallway and call Lily. The phone rings and rings until it switches to answerphone.

“Lily,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Could you come over, please? Something’s happened and I” My voice seizes. I shouldn’t have left a message. “Forget it, Lils, I’m fine.” I hang up.

If I call Emma, she’ll have to find a babysitter for Freddie and she’ll be all pregnant and glowing, which I can’t face right now. And Mags will go into a panic and cry. I could ring Elliot or Pete, but they want nothing to do with me, or this baby. Maybe I don’t ring anyone… That’s it. I’ll deal with this on my own.

I consider calling an ambulance but quickly dismiss the idea. Instead, I have a shower and get dressed. Then I rummage through my handbag until I find the piece of paper Emma gave me. With shaking hands, I make the call.

The midwife answers on the second ring.

“Leanne speaking.”

“Hello, Leanne. I’m sorry to ring, but Emma gave me your number. She’s a friend and I’m pregnant. I should have phoned you months ago, but I’ve been ignoring the pregnancy and now I’m bleeding and I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Is that Trish?” asks Leanne, her voice soft and composed.

“Yes.”

“Emma told me you might get in touch. She also said she was worried you were leaving things a little late.”

There’s no hint of accusation in her voice. She’s simply stating facts plainly, much the way I do at work. It calms me immediately.

“Yes,” I say.

“How many weeks along are you?” Leanne asks.

I’m embarrassed to answer. She’s going to think I’m an idiot.

“Six months,” I murmur.

“And have you had any complications so far? Any unusual bleeding?”

“No.”

“Did you have your twenty-week scan?”

“Yes. It was fine, apparently.”

“Good. Now, how much blood has there been, Trish? A few spots, or more of a gush?”

“Not a gush,” I say quickly. “But more than a few spots. Somewhere in between.”

“OK, and are you experiencing cramps?”

“No. There was this ache while I was out running. It got worse so I came home. But it’s stopped hurting now.”

“So there’s no pain?”

“No.”

“OK. What’s your address, Trish, and I’ll pop over?”

“Really? You’d do that?”