‘Good. I’ll look forward to tying you up.’ There was nothing Zac would hate more than losing control, though he’d once asked to do it to me and I’d said no.

He looked completely panic-stricken. ‘You didn’t write that.’

He was right. I hadn’t written a single word that was directly about him, and nothing explicitly about myself, either. ‘How do you know if you didn’t read it?’

My sleep was interrupted. I told Zac it was because my bladder kept waking me up, which was supposed to happen when you were four months pregnant. But that wasn’t the whole truth. I was frightened by my lapses at work. Medical notes were going astray or ending up by the wrong bed, putting patient confidentiality at risk. Everything I typed seemed to be filled with errors. I was exhausting myself all the more, because I wasn’t just double-checking everything I did but triple- and quadruple-checking, too. I was going in early and staying late, and still I was falling further behind.

I was practically drooping in my chair when Zac slid his own beside mine. My chin dropped onto my chest and I cupped my forehead and cheek with my fingertips. ‘I don’t remember making any of these mistakes.’

‘It could be you’re suffering from antenatal depression. We should mention it to the midwife, see what she suggests.’

I looked up. ‘I’m not depressed.’ But was I? I was no longer sure of anything.

‘Okay. I don’t want you feeling stress about this.’ His expression stayed placid. There was no tension anywhere in his body. ‘You do know, don’t you, that lack of sleep can have a serious impact on physical and emotional well-being.’

‘That makes sense.’

‘I wonder . . .’ He looked around, saw that the others were all busy with patients or in offices. He put one hand on my tummy, the other on my thigh. ‘Are you worrying about your journal?’ He moved his head close, so I could smell the coffee on his breath.

‘Yes.’

His voice was so low it was practically a whisper. ‘I won’t tell anyone. I’m used to keeping secrets. I expect loyalty, Holly. I won’t forgive or forget disloyalty. But I give loyalty too, and my loyalty is fierce.’ He pressed his mouth, briefly, against mine, and then he was gone.

A few days later, after hours in front of the screen, my eyelids were growing so heavy I wondered if I was going to fall asleep sitting up. As I updated yet another patient address, and checked the accuracy of yet another transcription from paper to computer, I realised that I needed the loo so badly I couldn’t sit for a minute longer.

When I returned, Sister was sitting in my chair. She pointed at the screen, her face tight. ‘What is this?’

‘I don’t understand,’ I said.