‘There’s no specific cause. It’s nothing you’ve done or haven’t done.’

‘So what happens now?’ Aidan asked.

‘A placenta failure could have disastrous consequences for both babies. But of course we’ll be monitoring you closely and hopefully it won’t come to that. We’ll make another appointment—’

‘Disastrous?’ Aidan asked.

‘Please,’ Lucy said. ‘Be frank with us.’

‘Okay. Well, Catherine’s receiving less blood flow than Connor. There’s a chance she could die in the womb. If she does, Connor would attempt to revive her by transferring blood back to her.’

‘But that’s good? He’d save her?’ Aidan asked tentatively, although the look on the doctor’s face indicated it wasn’t good at all.

‘That would mean Connor would die too,’ Lucy said flatly.

‘We’ll monitor you twice a week.’

At twenty-four weeks, the doctor’s voice was grave.

‘Connor has grown as expected but Catherine hasn’t caught up and the difference in their sizes now is outside what the NHS considers acceptable.’

Lucy crushed Aidan’s hand between hers but she was outwardly calm as she said, ‘Go on.’

Only he could detect the terror in her voice.

‘We could deliver the babies now—’

‘It’s too early.’ Lucy immediately dismissed the idea. ‘What about surgery?’

‘Well… There is a relatively new procedure that could split the placenta but it needs to be performed by twenty-five weeks. If you could get to London—’

‘We’ll go now.’ Lucy was already standing.

The following day found Lucy being scanned again but they were told that due to the position of the placenta the surgery was not an option.

At thirty-one weeks, ‘I’m sorry. The flow of blood has reversed,’ the doctor revealed. ‘Blood’s now flowing away from the babies to the placenta. Spontaneous death in the womb is a likelihood so we’re going to deliver you later today.’

Spontaneous death.

Aidan had never felt so helpless. So hopeless.

When Lucy had first fallen pregnant they’d talked of a natural birth. Of classical music and mood lighting. As relaxed and unobtrusive as labour could be. Instead, Aidan was draped in a gown and cap, under the harsh lights of the operating theatre, stroking Lucy’s furrowed brow as first one twin was lifted shrieking and wailing, and then the other. They were perfect, although small.

Connor was the largest at 4lb and Aidan thought how impossibly small he looked until Catherine was delivered.

There was only a brief snatch of time to see his children before they were whisked away.

‘Go with them,’ Lucy had cried.

The heat in the special baby unit pushed Aidan back as he entered the room. It was bright, lights flashing, the silence broken by beeping monitors. Aidan was surprised to see so many incubators. Some were empty, but others contained tiny babies. He had felt he and Lucy were the only couple in their situation. He followed the nurse.