Moments earlier, he had found her, hunched over the sink, dry-retching. The nausea came upon her so suddenly. She was going to wait until the end of the weekend, after he had dropped Matthew home to his mother, to break the news to Jake. But once he had discovered her like that, she had no choice other than to make her announcement.

And now he is sitting at the table, not looking at her, his concentration fixed on some inward point she can’t see.

‘Jake?’

‘How far along are you?’

‘Not that far. I’m three weeks late, maybe a month.’

‘Right.’

She’s still by the sink where he found her, her hip pressed against it, the coolness of the stainless steel coming through the thin cotton of her skirt. Outside, she can hear seagulls screaming. The sky is a perfect shade of blue.

His shock is to be expected. This is not something either of them has planned or even discussed. Having a baby had never seemed a possibility for her, the chances of it so remote, given the way she had set up her life, keeping people at arm’s length, until Jake came along. He loves Matthew, that much is clear; he is a devoted and affectionate father. But whether he has any desire for further children has never occurred to her. Their relationship is still so new. And it comes to Leah now how precarious their situation is. She loves Jake, but watching him, his hands cupping his cheeks while he scours the wooden surface of the table as if the answer could be read there, it occurs to her that she doesn’t really know him at all.

‘How did this happen?’ he asks, bewildered. ‘You’ve been taking the pill, right?’

He glances up at her, and the nerves she felt about telling him crystallize into something colder and harder. The look he gives her is distrustful. She can’t remember him ever looking at her that way before.

‘Of course I have.’

‘Sorry. I’m sorry – I didn’t mean it like that. This is all just a shock.’

She sits at the table with him then, reaching out to take his hand.

‘It must have been that tummy bug I had,’ she explains nervously. ‘A few weeks back – do you remember? It must have interfered with the pill.’

‘Christ.’ He rubs his spare hand over his hair, the other lying inert beneath her grip.

‘Please, Jake,’ she says, and something gives way in her voice – the break of emotion. She needs him to be happy about this, but she can’t express it: the tears are too close.

Only then does he see how deeply he has hurt her. Immediately regretful, he reaches for her across the table and they hug awkwardly. He strokes her hair and her cheek, kisses her firmly, passionately. ‘I’m a thoughtless dick,’ he says.

‘No, you’re not.’