“Thanks for inviting us,” he says. “The second I mentioned a long-lost aunt, Tilly went from being tired and wiped out to bursting with excitement.”

“Come in.” I usher them inside. “Tilly, I hope you’re up to meeting a few of my friends.”

I lead them to the living room and quickly introduce everyone. Tilly grips her dad’s hand and presses against his side, her face half hidden behind his baggy T-shirt. I imagine having a roomful of adults all staring (admittedly, everyone is smiling encouragingly) would be a tad overwhelming for a child.

Emma, bless her, senses my rising panic. She crouches in front of Tilly.

“I’ve got a little boy called Freddie who’s only a couple of years younger than you and his favourite drink in the world is apple juice mixed with lemonade. Would you like to try it out?”

Tilly’s wide eyes look from Emma, up to her dad, then back at Emma.

“OK,” she says.

“Please,” Will says gently.

“OK, please.”

I watch Tilly and Will follow Emma out of the room and notice Tilly’s stilted walk. The poor girl has been through so much. I feel a sharp pain in my chest and my stomach contracts so painfully, I put a hand on it and suck in my breath. Needing a second to myself, I slip into the hallway, still clutching my belly.

Scott appears beside me and puts a hand on my lower back. He rubs gently.

“You OK?” he whispers.

The pain begins to ease and I let out a shuddering breath.

“It must be so hard for Will… and Tilly. They’re so… they’re so…”

“So what?” he asks, his hand still resting on my lower back.

I want to lean against him, for him to put his arms around me, make me feel less…

“So alone,” I whisper.

Scott brushes the hair back from my face, too intimate a move, surely, for a guy who isn’t my boyfriend and can’t be my boyfriend because I’m pregnant with someone else’s child.

“They’re not alone, Trish. They have you.”

I take a step back to create more space between us.

“But I barely know them. This is the first time I’ve even met Tilly.”

“Really?” Scott asks, confusion – or is it disappointment? – on his face.

“A couple of weeks ago, Will turned up here out of the blue. I hadn’t seen anyone in my family for years. I didn’t even know Will had a daughter. I swore I’d never have anything to do with any of my family… They all… they all made me…”

It’s too much. The look of sympathy on Scott’s face, the fact he’s fucking gorgeous and I like him, as in really like him… But what’s the point? It’s not as if…

I jerk away and take a step towards the kitchen.

“Trish”