She’d taken her bag with her, he noticed, so he settled in for the long haul; grabbed a tabloid from the bar. It was progress, he thought, that he could challenge her on behaviour like that and it hadn’t flared up into a row. They were learning each other, gradually, learning how to live together. Nobody said marriage was easy, after all, and perhaps they’d been naive when they got together, assuming that trying to blend their separate lives would come as naturally to them as shagging had. But then maybe this was the pregnancy working on her, just as it had on him. Perhaps it was natural that her hormones would compel her to get on with him, to agree with him even, to keep her protector close. Biology, that sort of thing.

She was in there for at least ten minutes. He buried himself in the paper to deflect the awkward glances from the other punters, tuned in to the Christmas pop songs blaring away on the bad PA system. The barmaid leaned over at one point and said, ‘Is she all right? Do you want me to pop in and check on her?’

Danny sucked back a smile at the thought of Clio’s reaction to that invasion of privacy.

‘No, no, she’ll be fine. Don’t worry. It happens a lot at the moment. She just needs a bit of space sometimes. She’ll be doing her make-up, you know. Putting her face back on. And thank you, doll. Eh?’

And suddenly, there she was, sitting in front of him, her face freshly painted into sharp lines and her head up high. Her hands were tensed, fretting and clawing at the air above the tabletop.

‘Are you feeling OK, love? Do you want a wee sip of my beer? Little treat?’

She took a long, controlled breath in through her nose and closed her eyes for a second.

‘Right. Right. Look. There are two ways this story goes, darling. Danny-boy my love. Let’s talk them through – here’s the deal, right – let me tell you two stories, give me space, and if you don’t agree with me then you tell me your story. So. Here it goes. I have this baby. You probably stop fancying me the second the weight piles on, but eh, you know, I’m young. Ish. It’ll come off again soon, nah?’

Her fingers twitched, twitched, twitched.