He didn’t care who in this shitty little country pub could hear them now. She had a funny half-smile on her face, and she looked him straight in the eye as she unbuckled her belt, shoved a hand down her trousers. What the hell? What the hell was she doing?

She pulled her hand out, displayed a bloodstained finger to him, showed it round to the rest of the pub.

‘No, it doesn’t look like I’m pregnant with your child, does it? And yes, I’ve taken a little bit of speed. I had it in my bag for emergencies, and this seems like an emergency, this state of affairs.’ She waved her bloody hand about like royalty greeting the masses, laughed.

She’s crazy, he thought. She’s actually crazy, and I married her. And on speed. On speed. There was a high, electrical note shrilling in his brain. The blood was very, very red. And then, suddenly, the dull thud of it hit him.

‘What, what is that? Is it – are you having a miscarriage?’

‘I don’t know. It might just be my period. I’ve been feeling it coming on all day.’

‘But – you were pregnant. The test.’

‘Well, now I’m not. And I’m – I can’t – I don’t want to be.’

He sank back into the bench, stared down at his plate, still full of food, as the air left the room. Over. It was over.

She came round the table to him, scooted her bum along the bench, stretched out towards him, stroked his shoulder.

‘I’m sorry, my love. My boy. I’m sorry. It’s just felt wrong, the whole time. I felt myself disappearing. I haven’t been able to breathe all week. Then I went to the toilet, and there it was, and the world suddenly made sense again. It’s not for me. This isn’t what I was supposed to be. And it is definitely what you were supposed to be, isn’t it? I mean, you’ve been – you’ve been the one fucking glowing, Danny.’

Her arms were around him, and she was ferreting inside his jacket for his wallet. She pulled out a couple of notes and placed them down on the table between the burger and the pie, and then she guided him into a standing position, wrapped his scarf round his neck, surprising him with her tenderness.

‘Did you do something?’ he heard himself saying. ‘Did you do something to the baby?’ He wasn’t even aware he’d made that connection until he said it.

She laughed again, that hard little laugh he didn’t recognize. ‘Not unless it’s possible to think something away. Maybe it worked out I was going to be a shit mother and decided to get the fuck out of here.’

‘Are you totally sure? It could just be a bit of blood.’