Jo’s face lit up with joy. ‘I’d love to!’ she breathed.

Although I didn’t look at him, all the while I was aware of Peter watching me with those sleepy brown eyes of his. I didn’t invite him to join us, wanting to make him wait for as long as possible before he got to set eyes on his daughter.

We tiptoed together into Elodie’s room, me aware that Jo was being exaggeratedly careful not to make a noise. We made our way to the white wooden cot in the corner where Elodie was lying on her back, sleeping soundly. I watched Jo’s rapt expression as she peered down at her. She put her hand to her chest, clearly fighting back tears. ‘She’s so lovely,’ she whispered. ‘And she looks so much like you.’

Well, she’s certainly not going to look like you, is she? I thought meanly. ‘Thank you. And yes, I think she’s lovely too but I’m a bit biased.’

‘You’re allowed to be. You’re her mum,’ Jo gushed, before we both tiptoed back out of the room.

In the kitchen, Peter and Ben were chatting quietly, as Ben prepared the lunch. I deliberately avoided making eye contact with Peter as we joined them, but made sure that I was as charming as possible. I laughed at all Ben’s stupid jokes and listened intently to Jo’s dreary stories, knowing that Peter’s eyes were on me the whole time. I wondered idly if he ever felt any regret over me. Whether he ever imagined what it would be like to set up home with just me and his new baby daughter. It killed me to know that if he just said the word, I would still run away with him in a heartbeat.

‘And how has Ben been looking after you?’ Jo suddenly piped up, interrupting my thoughts.

‘He’s been amazing,’ I said, aware as I spoke of how true it was. ‘But he works such long hours. I think we might need to rethink.’ I could see Peter’s eyes narrowing as I spoke, wondering what I might be up to now.

‘Rethink what?’ Ben chimed in, his mouth full of lasagne.

‘Your job. It’s not even as if you love it that much. A fresh start somewhere out of London might be good for all of us.’ An idea was beginning to form in my mind.

‘You never mentioned it before. What’s brought this on?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe hearing your mum and dad’s stories about you growing up in Suffolk. It sounds idyllic …’ I deliberately left the words hanging for a second. ‘I’d like Elodie to have that sort of upbringing.’

‘What was your childhood like, Bella?’ Jo asked, annoyingly interrupting my flow. ‘I’m not sure I’ve ever heard you talk about it.’

‘That’s because I don’t want to bore everyone rigid. It was dull as ditchwater.’ I rolled my eyes to close down the conversation. ‘There’s honestly nothing to tell.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Jo persisted. ‘Where did you live again?’