‘Don’t ask so many questions,’ he said. ‘Just pop on some clothes, something comfortable, and I’ll gather Layla’s things.’

‘Fine, but let me drink this first,’ she said, imagining the massage he would have booked her in for or the country walk and pub lunch he might have planned.

‘No problem, but have a shower straight after, we need to leave within the hour.’

Ivan was out in the driveway, fiddling with the car, as she stepped into the bathroom upstairs. The marble floor was warm underfoot and she caught a glimpse of her own reflection as she let the dressing gown fall to the floor.

Though Layla was still sleeping in a crib by their bed at night – a notion Ivan had initially resisted before accepting the quiet comfort of the spare room, with its king-size bed for one and plush curtains blocking out the light that would otherwise spill through the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the green – her nursery was already fully prepared.

Gabriela’s stomach had turned the first time she saw it, coming home to find the cloud-themed wallpaper and matching prints above an elaborate white cot. Holding onto the doorframe for strength, she had a flash of the wooden cradle Jim and Saoirse had picked out years earlier, when Sadie was born.

‘It’s all pink.’

Ivan had studied her face for a reaction.

‘The 4D scan was pretty unequivocal. Don’t tell me, you’ve always wanted a son …’

She breathed in. ‘It’s not that.’

‘You hate it.’

‘I don’t hate it.’

‘You do. Look, we can change it …’

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, kissing him gently on the mouth, pushing down the sickness that was rising inside her.

Layla screamed as Ivan strapped her into the car seat, but soon the cries settled as the engine started and they pulled out of the drive.

‘OK?’ he asked from the driver’s seat and Gabriela smiled wanly, looking out of the window at the parade of shops that were still alien and yet slowly becoming familiar to her. She was barely bold enough to walk further than the high street for fear of being spotted by some friend of Tom’s who might happen to be passing through the opposite end of London.

‘Mmm, just sleepy,’ she answered and he touched the radio, which was set to Radio 3, the sounds of Chopin enveloping her.

‘Close your eyes,’ Ivan said as they reached the traffic lights, and she let them drift shut.

Briefly, she lifted her lids again a while later, and saw fields fluttering in and out of focus as sleep overtook her once more.

‘Gabriela?’ Ivan nudged her gently and she started. Sometimes in sleep, she would forget where she was so that she would wake up expecting to see Tom’s face lying in the bed next to her.