“Me?” Dea rolls her eyes. “Jesus. Are we going to go into my sexual history now? Now that is an X-rated horror. I’ll tell you one day. I’ll give you the director’s cut.”

Cate laughs. “I’ll look forward to it.”

Are they flirting? She can’t tell.

“But not now. It’s freezing. Come on,” says Dea. “Let’s go somewhere and get warm.”

They stand and Dea threads her arm through Cate’s. “Hey,” she says, as they near the edge of the garden. “You never said what scared you. If I have sex with my wife then what are you going to do?”

Cate thinks. “Honestly? It’s my house. Sorting it out. Unpacking the boxes from the move. I still haven’t done it. It terrifies me.”

“Well, first of all let me say that I think the pressure for women to have a perfect home is one of the greatest heists of capitalism, which I am resisting daily on principle, as I’m sure you’ve seen from the state of my own house. But, you know, since it scares you so much, I think you should face it. Unpack the boxes. Sort it out. Have a gathering. Invite me round. And Zoe. Get Sam to cook. You never know”—Dea winks—“maybe we’ll all get pregnant again.”

LATER THAT EVENING, when she hears Sam come home from work, Cate gets out of bed and goes down to the living room, where Sam is already installed on the sofa, beer in hand, computer propped on his chest.

“Hey,” she says, and goes to sit on the opposite chair.

“Hey.” He pulls off his headphones.

“What are you watching?”

“Just some crap.”

“How was work?”

“Tiring. Boring. I’m over it. Really. Plating up someone else’s food.”

“I wanted to ask you . . .” she says.

“Yeah?”

“I met someone.”

“What?” He raises an eyebrow. “Who?”

“Another mum. At that playgroup, the one Alice told me to go to. The one you told me to go to—so I could make friends. And I was wondering if I could invite her over, for a gathering. I was wondering if you would cook.”

“A gathering? What’s a gathering?”

“Sam. Please.”

“When?”

“I don’t know. A few weeks’ time. I thought I might invite Hannah down, Nathan. Make an evening of it.”

He frowns. “I don’t know, I have to check my shifts.”

“Sam,” she says. “You said I should meet people. I’ve done it. I’ve met people. Dea, and Zoe.”

“Wait, they’re gay?”

“Yes.”

“Canterbury has lesbians?”

“Very funny.”

He takes a swig of beer.

“So can I tell them we’ll do it? Will you cook?”

He thinks. “OK,” he says. “But let’s invite Mark and Tamsin too.”

“Really?”

“Why not? We owe them a dinner. It’s been ages since Mark has eaten my food. It might get the ball rolling. Encourage him to invest.”