‘What?’ He narrowed his eyes.

‘Nothing’s wrong. I’m pregnant,’ she whispered.

‘Seriously?’ A pain shot through his head, like he’d been hit by a brick. He stared ahead.

‘I know we said two was enough… it’s a surprise for me too.’ Her eyes were brimming with tears.

‘It’s great news. It’s a shock, that’s all.’ He hugged her and blew out a little stream of air. Shit.

‘Are you sure you’re okay with it?’ She rubbed his back.

‘Of course, of course I am.’ He hoped he didn’t sound abrupt. His whole body had turned to jelly. What the fuck was he going to do?

‘Really?’

‘Honestly.’ He looked in her eyes. ‘As long as you and the baby are healthy, that’s all that’s important.’

‘I don’t want to tell the girls straight away,’ she whispered.

‘How far gone are you?’

‘The doctor thinks about thirteen weeks, due in January, about a month after Christmas.’

Weren’t those dates close to Ali’s? His mind was a scramble, he couldn’t think. Whatever it was, this was his worst nightmare.

‘You didn’t have an inkling before now?’ Like that was going to make any difference. He pulled a face, expecting her to be a little bit offended.

‘Not for a moment. I suppose it doesn’t help that I’ve put on a bit of weight recently.’

‘You are beautiful.’ To him she looked as good as she always did. Jesus. He wanted to bang his head on the wall. What an idiot for getting in this mess.

‘Come on, Dad.’ Emily tugged his coat. They followed them to a luminous photo of the moon. Above it hung the question:

‘What Would Happen If The Moon Disappeared?’

Answer: ‘Disastrous consequences.’

Maddy kissed him on the lips. He loved her so much. But didn’t he love Ali too? He couldn’t go on living like this. How would he ever decide between them?

Chapter Fifty-Six

Maddy: December 2019

Maddy pushes the revolving door of the hospital and heads towards the maternity ward. She holds up a small bunch of flowers to obscure her face and slips into Lilac Ward as an elderly couple exit. The woman gives her a lingering stare. Maddy’s newly coloured auburn hair is in a bun and she is wearing her mum’s old raincoat and woollen hat. It is after lunch and quietening down, as she expected. She spots Alison’s name on the nurses’ board. Number 22, bay nine. What if Max is here? Mother hadn’t thought of that. Perhaps he’d approve of her behaviour.

The ward is dim along one side, the curtains drawn around two of the first four sets of beds. A light murmur fills the air – quietly spoken men chatting to their wives or girlfriends – not exclusively theirs any more, seeing them in a different light now the transformation to motherhood is complete.