‘I know,’ she laughs. ‘I’m genuinely worried. I think we should hide all breakable objects.’

‘We should do that anyway, with your nephews coming.’

She kisses me on the forehead. ‘I wish your mum was here today,’ she says suddenly. ‘So much.’

‘I know,’ I say quietly. ‘I’ve been thinking about her a lot since we found out.’

We lie there for a minute, forehead to forehead. I wonder if it will ever get easier – missing Mum. Probably not. But at least I’ve let Daff in properly this time. Now at least we can miss her together.

Daff sighs and says, ‘Well. It’s been a pretty weird year, hasn’t it?’

I laugh. ‘It really has.’ I lay a hand gently on her stomach.

‘And next year’s going to be even weirder,’ she says. ‘I mean, there’s a person in there.’ She pokes her belly. ‘An actual person.’

‘Bernard,’ I say.

‘Yep. Little Bernie.’

‘The B Man.’

She nuzzles into my neck. ‘You know we have to think of some proper names soon, right? Bernard’s fine for a bump, but I’m not sure about it for our actual child.’

‘What, even if it’s a girl?’

‘Even if it’s a girl.’

‘OK,’ I say. ‘I’ll brainstorm.’

I’ve been thinking lately about Jack, if it’s a boy. I haven’t told Daff yet. Maybe I’ll pitch it in the new year.

The whole thing still doesn’t seem real, to be honest. When Daff missed her period back in October, we hadn’t even restarted the conversation about having kids. We were still trying to find our way back into married life. But I knew for certain it was what I wanted. A family with Daphne: the thought made me explode with joy. And when she told me it was what she wanted too … Well, put it this way, I was unable to form a coherent sentence for a good few hours.

She places her hand on top of mine, and I hear the soft clink of our wedding rings touching.

‘I love you, Daff,’ I tell her.

‘I love you too. And hey – we haven’t even said it yet.’ She smiles at me: her wide, bright, beautiful smile. ‘Merry Christmas.’

‘Oh yeah. Merry Christmas.’

We kiss for a while, our fingers interlocked on her tummy, and I find myself hard pressed to remember a moment when I have ever felt happier.

Our families and our best mates will all be here in a few hours, and over a glass of champagne, we’re going to let them know we’re expecting.

Today is going to be a very good day.

‘All right,’ I say finally, climbing back out of bed and collecting the trays. ‘You stay put. I’m on turkey duty, gravy duty and trying-to-get-rid-of-this-hangover duty. Do we have any Nurofen?’