Josephine smiled sadly. ‘I love you, Michael, you know that. But you are like a fucking bad smell lately, hanging around here. You’re normally out all hours of the day and night. I’ve never once questioned that, have I? I accept that it’s part and parcel of your job. Now, though, if I even fart, you’re standing behind me. It is driving me mad. I can call you if I need you.’

Michael was looking at his wife, saw the way she was trying to keep as calm as possible, and knew he was getting on her nerves. He was getting on his own fucking nerves! But his real fear was that, if she lost this child too, she would not cope with it as well as she seemed to think. She was convinced this time was different somehow, but he wasn’t so sure. He felt it might be wishful thinking on her part, and who could blame her? She saw the doctor regularly, and everything seemed fine, but that was how it had been in the past. He would gladly give ten years off his life, if it meant she could have a child of her own.

‘Look, Josephine, I know what you’re saying, darling. But I care about you, and I worry about you.’

Josephine closed her eyes in distress. Sometimes men were so thick! It was all about Michael really, but he couldn’t see that. He was waiting for her to fail again. Oh, he never said that, of course! But she knew him better than anyone else in the world. He was scared for her if this all went pear-shaped again.

‘Well, do you know what, Michael? Don’t worry about me, OK? Just let me be. You’re stressing me out, can’t you see that? I have sat here night after night, all on my Jack Jones, for years, and I have learnt to live with that, live with your work, and the odd hours. I even have a routine. Bet you never knew that. I watch certain programmes, I have a nice bath, I go to bed and I read. I’ve learnt to cope without you and I like a bit of peace in my own home. So I am begging you, Michael, please, will you stop treating me like a fucking invalid? I know that this child might not come to term, I know that better than anyone, believe me. Been there, done that, remember? Many times. Go out, do your job, and let me do mine.’

Michael could see that Josephine was serious, and she had a point. He was letting the business slide, and that was not good for either of them. He should be out there, sorting out the mess that Patrick Costello had left behind. But he also felt he should be there for his wife.