‘What about Oscar?’ I asked. ‘Does he know?’

‘We only got together properly during my second trimester,’ she explained, ‘and before then, he had made it clear he didn’t want another child. He already has two from a previous relationship – he’s been married before, as you know. But then he changed his mind. I told you all this, and it’s true. And yes, I’ve told him everything about Jason now.’ She began to cry, and they were not crocodile tears, I could see the pain in her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, holding her head in her hands.

Adrenalin had pulsed through me as I listened to Lucy’s explanation, but now I felt more in control, I almost pitied her, as well as felt relieved that her story matched Jason’s account. Lucy and I had become what I thought of as good friends over the past few months and although I held Jason completely accountable for his actions, there were two people involved in this awful situation, so it didn’t seem fair that she shouldn’t have to ever look me in the eye and explain herself.

Lucy had put her coat on and was about to leave, when she picked up her phone and looked at it. Her expression changed. At first I thought Oscar must have been calling, wondering where she was.

She spoke in a calm, low voice: ‘The results are here.’

Chapter Forty-Five

Aisha

January 2022, the following year

After discovering the test result, Jason and I lived apart for over five months as we tried to come to terms with what had happened. He came to the flat every weekend, to spend time with Joni.

‘Do you think we can ever be happy again?’ he asked me one evening, in the living room, after we had poured out our hearts again.

‘I don’t know,’ I sighed. I wanted to say that I hoped so, but something seismic had shifted and I needed longer to decide if I could trust him again.

Jason had gathered some more clothes into a suitcase and as he left to go back to his sister’s for an as yet ‘undefined amount of time’, he looked at me, clearly building up to say something. I waited.

It was so quiet in the flat that we could hear some people laughing in the street outside, their mood at odds with the atmosphere in here.

He spoke slowly. ‘I hope we can find a way through this, more than anything in the world.’ He looked like a broken man.

Gradually, once the tears began to dry and we were able to meet up without combing over the past because he had answered everything I could possibly think of, there was a semblance of normal weekends together – we would cook, go for walks, explore new parts of London – yet for the most part we were too afraid to talk about the future.

We had spent Christmas together although half of me found it fake – like we were pretending to be a happy family. Watching saccharine festive family movies together was a continual reminder that we were not perfect. Our marriage had been smashed, like a glass bauble. I found it hard, but I didn’t really have anywhere else to go – flying to Dubai to Dad was a much less appealing option – and we both owed it to Joni to try to make her first Christmas as happy as possible. We talked a lot and Jason continually assured me that we could, and would, get back to a place of trust. That we weren’t just putting tinsel over what had happened – he would dig deep and do the work to build that trust again, day-by-day, week-by-week, year-by-year, for as long as it took. I observed Jason become an amazing father – he was patient, fun, kind and full of love. Joni was so content when she was with him. She adored her daddy.