Morgan had woken up and started to ask for milk by chewing his hand and moving his head from side to side, saying ung-ung-ung.

Cindy laughed. “No, nothing like. But Ryan and I take it in turns, so I do sometimes manage a longer stretch.”

“I wish Patrick could do that.”

“You mean he doesn’t? Why can’t he? Don’t you express, so he can use a bottle?”

“I do, sometimes.” It wasn’t true, she never did. She didn’t even know where the breast pump was. “But Patrick’s not good at being woken up. He can’t function properly at work. So, I suppose I said I would do the nights, and then it just, went on like that.” As she said it she heard how pathetic it sounded, making excuses for him. Lauren raised her eyes and met Cindy’s, where the kindness broke the weakened dam holding back her tears. Cindy gently patted her knee as she cried. When she could speak she said, “I keep crying. I can’t stop it, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re doing the best you can do, and you’re a great mum. Believe me. Look how happy and well-fed these two are.”

The two women looked at the boys. Chubby wrists, cheeks as fat as plums. Lauren gently stopped Morgan’s arm from whirring, stroked his fingers with her thumb which she then pressed into his little palm for him to squeeze.

“They should be well-fed,” said Lauren, “they never stop feeding.”

“Is there anyone else you can ask for help?”

“Not really. I don’t know if I told you, my mum …”

“Oh, of course. I’m so sorry. It must be so hard without her.”

More tears came, crowding her throat in great heaving sobs that she couldn’t stifle. Cindy made soothing noises. She passed over a tissue from the box.

“I mean,” said Lauren, “I don’t know why I’m so upset. She’s been dead for years. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.” She folded Lauren into a hug.

Lauren leaned into Cindy and cried like a little girl.

*   *   *

Later, Lauren was calm. The crying had been the good kind, the sort you feel so much better for. The two women sipped tea and watched the babies, who were falling asleep where they lay.

“Identical twins are funny, aren’t they?”

Lauren was shocked. “No,” she said. The offence hung between them as Lauren’s frown deepened.

“Oh,” said Cindy, “I don’t mean funny. I mean … interesting. Part of it is the mystery. How can there be two people the same, but different? Something about their interchangeableness, maybe.”