I noticed Aisha was quiet today; she seemed as lost in thought as I was for much of the morning. Joni was asleep in her pram for a lot of the time. I searched Aisha’s face for clues, but then checked myself – just the fact she was here was a good thing. She was concentrating intently on the three bunnies she was painting; putting us all to shame with her artistic talents.

Susie, Will and I were distracted for a while by gossiping about Helen, who had politely declined the pottery invitation, choosing WhatsApp to tell us the news that she and Ian were currently ‘on a break’ and that she and Maddie had moved back to Windsor to live with her parents for a while. She didn’t explain anything more. It had come as a shock to us, as they had seemed so together, so perfect.

‘I can’t even imagine them arguing,’ Susie observed, to which we all agreed.

The mystery of their break-up brought it home to me that none of us really knew what was going on in each other’s relationships. What a shock they would get if they knew the truth about me. I glanced around the table, which was now awash with painted baby footprints, Wet Wipes, spilt paint, and smudgy plates. I shouldn’t even be here.

When we left the pottery shop, I decided to go for a walk. Aisha had left early and gone to meet Jason. I’d thought about trying to persuade her to go for a spontaneous lunch with me instead, but had chickened out. My insides were churning. Would that be the last time I saw her?

I needed some air and Albie always slept better and for longer when we were outside. I headed up towards the common, and before long he was asleep in the cosy pram, oblivious to it all. I stopped for a moment and lowered the canopy to look at him. A peacefulness had spread across his features, so innocent, so unaware of his importance in the world; the pure, beautiful baby at the heart of this mess. Our umbilical-like bond tugged at my heart; a love I’d once wondered if I would ever feel.

It must have triggered something because my mind began wandering. My thoughts turned back almost twenty years, to the first baby I was pregnant with.

I had been at university for almost a year when I discovered I was pregnant. I fled back home to get some space; work out what to do next. How could I expect my gorgeous boyfriend or university friends to have the language or life experience to understand that kind of thing? And then I became too ashamed, too afraid to tell anyone else in case they judged me and hated me as much as I hated myself for either getting pregnant in the first place or going ahead with the abortion. But in moments when I least expected it, I could still see it. I could see the clotted blood so clearly.