He stood. ‘Rest.’ His hands were in fists. ‘Lie on your left side and get some oxygen and nutrients to the baby. I’m going to the bar. I’ll come and collect you for dinner.’ He glanced at the wardrobe and I followed his eyes. I hadn’t noticed the dress that was hanging from the moulding at the top. ‘Wear that. It was supposed to be a present. A surprise to make you happy.’

‘It’s beautiful. Thank you. I am happy.’ Did he buy a dress for Jane, and hang it on their hotel room wardrobe, before he attacked her? Did he accuse her of meeting someone else, as he did me?

I tried to think beyond this. Did he have a reason for wanting us to be seen together at dinner, a happy couple on a weekend break of fun in London before their baby was born? I remembered his saying that my coming with him might help us both. Was I some kind of pretext for his being here? A cover story? This seemed the most likely explanation for his agreeing to take me.

‘You can show me how thankful you are later tonight.’ He jerked open the bedroom door, stepped from the room, slammed it shut so hard the walls shook.

I waited fifteen minutes, then levered myself off the bed. I squeezed myself out of the sweater dress and threw it on the floor. I slipped the smoky blue new one over my head. The bodice was lace, the sleeves were sheer, and the skirt was silk. A jewelled crystal belt was encrusted along the empire waist, making my bump look distinct and unquestionable. I glanced longingly at the ballet flats I’d worn all day. Instead, I slid my feet into the heeled gold sandals he’d arranged beneath the dress. His medically informed concern for my pregnancy had once again been defeated by his impulse to dress me like a doll.

It was a hushed room, despite the fact that every full-grain leather chair in it was filled. This was not the kind of place where you stood and ordered your own drink. Attentive waiters glided among the tables before returning to the mahogany bar to murmur the guests’ choices of cocktail and champagne and whisky. When one of them headed towards me, I gave a slight no-thank-you shake of my head before stepping back. The man retreated instantly, practised at attending to the tiniest gesture.