‘There’s no real evidence that it does any of that,’ she said, doing her best to suppress a nervous giggle at the silliness of him mimicking the pitch of her voice. She could never understand why, but she often felt like laughing when Rick was in one of his moods. He seemed so childishly petulant at times; it reminded her of Martha. And her father.

Something else she didn’t know with any real certainty was if it was true what she’d just said, that there wasn’t any evidence to prove that one glass of wine was harmful to the baby. But at the end of the day, it wasn’t as if she was out every night getting off her head on tequila shots like she used to. Well, that was such a distant memory, she could scarcely recall it. It was as though that had been a different person. But she had been a different person back then; she wasn’t the responsible grown-up she was now trying to be, and who was expecting a child.

The thought of that instantly sobered her up. Not that she was drunk; it would take more than two glasses of Pinot to do that. But standing here with Rick quietly fuming at her – actually, not so quietly; he was slamming cupboard doors now as he continued to empty the dishwasher – she couldn’t help but feel like a slightly tiddly teenager all over again and being reprimanded by her father.

‘Let me do that,’ she said, wanting to please Rick, to stop him being in a bad mood. Especially when she knew she was the cause of it.

‘No, you’ll only put things in the wrong place like you always do.’

‘You wanted me to do it before,’ she said. ‘So let me do the rest now.’

He whipped round. ‘I said no! Are you deaf as well as stupid?’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, stepping away from him in alarm. Then: ‘I keep annoying you, don’t I? Perhaps,’ she added faintly, ‘this wasn’t such a good idea.’

He stared at her, his jaw set implacably, his gaze fixed so determinedly on her, she had to look away.

‘What do you mean?’ he finally asked. ‘What don’t you think is such a good idea?’

She swallowed. ‘Living together. I just don’t seem able to live up to your high standards.’

‘But we’re having a baby together.’

‘Maybe that’s a mistake too.’

Everything about him suddenly changed. The angry hardness that had been in him the moment she arrived back and he’d demanded to know where she’d been, was gone. Right before her eyes, he visibly softened, became the Rick that was kind and caring and who told her every morning before he went to work how much he loved her. The Rick who left yellow Post-its on the fridge door with baby name suggestions. The Rick who had already ordered a pram and researched which baby seat would be the safest option for their child.