He’s with her when it happens.

‘Come on you, let’s have a last cocoa together, for old times’ sake,’ she says when he meets her in the kitchen. ‘You’ll be gone in a couple of days!’ She puts her head on one side and beams her warmth at him. ‘What do you say?’

William has found a room just round the corner from college. His landlady is ancient but pleasant. It’ll only be for two months and then he’ll be back in Sutton with Uncle Robert and Howard. He’s got used to the ache in his heart, and to make life as easy as possible for Gloria he’s acted cheerful and normal, and they are almost back to how they were before Ray turned up. Mr and Mrs Finch are in the sitting room watching Armchair Theatre, just as they were on his first night back in September. Ray is upstairs.

‘All right.’ He smiles and sits himself on the counter next to the kettle. It’s worth the effort to hide his feelings to draw that smile from her. She turns and bends down to lift the milk bottle from the fridge. William’s heart kicks and he feels the jump of blood rush straight to his face. A huge crimson flower is blossoming across the back of Gloria’s skirt.

‘Gloria!’ he shouts instinctively. ‘You’re bleeding!’

The milk bottle clatters into the sink and Gloria twists round to look. ‘Oh God!’ She looks at him, her face creased and helpless.

Mrs Finch is there already, taking Gloria by both arms. ‘Let’s get you to the loo. Reg! Get the car ready, we’re going to the hospital.’

They all go, except William. Ray carried Gloria back down the stairs without his shirt on, so William took off his and gave it to Mrs Finch for him.

The sudden silence thunders through the hallway after Mrs Finch snaps the door shut behind them, even though he was there ready to do it for her. He turns and sees the heavy, gummy drops of blood on every stair tread. He goes to the sink and puts cold water in the bowl, takes a knife from the cutlery drawer and a Tupperware box from the cupboard. He gets the worst of it off with the knife. The smell doesn’t bother him – he’s used to far worse. He gets his own nail brush and, with salt and cold water, scrubs at each crimson spot. Concentrating on what he’s doing, he can manage. Just get this beige carpet clean before they come home. That’s all. He knows nothing about miscarriages, but hopes because they got to the hospital quickly, she’ll be all right.