Sid has to be ready. His mother has been talking about us having a baby ever since we’ve been married. I hope she stops being nasty once she knows she’ll be a grandma soon.

I feel excited again—surely this pregnancy is a sign that things will work out for Sid and me? It’s like a movie really—Sid makes love to me, Sid suddenly wants to take me out for dinner, I dream about being pregnant—and then voila! I find out I’m pregnant. All of it cannot be a coincidence. I am meant to have this baby and Sid is meant to love me.

I stand before the dressing table mirror, drop the towel and turn sideways for a better look at my belly. I run my hands over its roundness. I’ve never had a flat belly and I wonder how it will look once it’s much bigger. My eyes travel upwards towards my breasts which seem bigger—or maybe I’m just imagining things. I give myself another look before getting ready. I can’t wait to tell Sid, he’s not the only one with a surprise this evening.

I wear my favourite chiffon sari—it’s a lovely lemon yellow with big white flowers. It has a really tiny blouse with it—it’s one of my more daring blouses. I’m wearing the sari with big silver hoops, a silver bracelet, white open-toe sandals and my favourite Lanvin perfume. Since I got my hair trimmed at Beauty and the Best earlier today, it reaches down to my bra strap now. I’ve left it open. I think I look quite pretty; hopefully Sid will think so too. Where is he?

My phone beeps and I bet it’s Sid! He must be messaging to tell me he’d be home soon. I check my reflection one last time. I really want to look good for him tonight—and read the message. It’s short.

‘Sth urgent come up @ work, will be v late, don’t stay up.’

I re-read it to be sure. Sid is indeed cancelling our evening together. I pull out one of the chairs and sit at the dining table. I breathe deeply.

It’s so not fair. We were doing this—something so personal, so romantic—for the first time. And now his work has screwed it up for us. I try hard not to cry, I am so disappointed.

My mood plummets and I try hard not to think negatively.

There’s no point imagining how good the evening would have been because it’s not happening. There’s no point moping about it either because it’s not like Sid wanted it to turn out this way. Yet just when things were looking up for us … I have to stop thinking negatively. It’s just a cancelled dinner.