Willow’s face suddenly looked sad. ‘No,’ she said softly. ‘Mum would have told Dad, she wouldn’t have kept something like that from him. And anyway, I saw it as my mistake which I had to deal with myself. I wanted to carry on with my life as though that awful thing had never happened. By never telling anyone, not even Mum, I hoped I could almost kid myself into believing it was nothing but a bad dream. Which sounds pathetic, doesn’t it? But I also didn’t want people to know about it, because then I’d forever be labelled as a victim, and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want their pity or my shame to be known.’

‘You had no reason to feel any shame. You did nothing wrong. You weren’t to blame. You might not have believed it before, but you must now. You really must.’

‘I know,’ Willow said, ‘that’s what Mum kept saying to me last night. She was so upset, wasn’t she?’ added Willow after a pause. ‘I hate knowing that I’ve done that to her. I heard her crying in bed with Ellis. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her sound so distraught.’

‘It’s because she loves you.’

‘I suppose that’s how we’re going to be as mothers, aren’t we?’ said Willow, casting aside the rag doll and placing her hands over her stomach beneath the duvet. ‘It’s a scary thought, isn’t it, feeling that depth of responsibility and love? Or perhaps it doesn’t feel so scary to you?’

Martha smiled. ‘I assure you it does. There’s so much to learn while on the job, and potentially so much to get wrong. But you know what, we’ll muddle through just like millions of other new mothers have done.’

‘Well, muddling is what I do best,’ said Willow.

‘Don’t put yourself down. You’ll be great.’ Then, conscious that she was venturing into an area that her sister might not feel able to discuss, that it was just too personal for her, Martha chose her next words with great care. ‘Do you ever think of the baby you …’ she hesitated, ‘didn’t have?’

‘You mean the baby I got rid of?’ Willow said bluntly.

Martha nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘I never saw it as a real baby at the time. How could it be when I terminated it when it was no more than a tiny blob of cells? But if you’re asking if I ever wondered what the child would have been like as the years went by, then yes, just occasionally it would creep up on me.’ She turned her head to look away, to the window where the curtains were pushed back, and the weak early morning light was breaking through clouds of indigo and violet. She stared at the sky for the longest moment, as though momentarily distracted. Then returning her gaze to Martha, she said, ‘This might sound selfish, but what I thought much more about was what my life might have been like if I’d never gone to that party.’