‘OK Mum, dinner is almost ready so I’d better go. Bye, chat tomorrow,’ he says, bringing his call to an end and looking at me as if I should wait. ‘Right, sorry about that,’ he says, giving me the all-clear to speak again. I’m not sure why my presence at home would be so terrible for his mother to know about. ‘Tommy had a good day today. He finished his bottles, did two poos, one went all the way up his back and took half a packet of wipes to sort out. The other was nice and hard,’ he says, filling me in. He knows I like all the details.

‘I love it when you talk dirty,’ I say, flirtatiously. He looks at me curiously as he hands me a glass of wine, then turns away.

‘What are you cooking?’ I ask. It smells delicious.

‘Spaghetti bolognaise. You need to keep your protein levels up if you’re going to keep breast feeding,’ he says, stirring his beef sauce.

‘Yes doctor.’

He cares about me. I know that much.

I watch him, his back to me. He is thicker around the middle than he used to be. His brown hair is now almost completely grey. He has a tea-towel tucked into his jeans pocket, another over his left shoulder. He tastes the sauce, adds a little salt and tastes again. I move a little closer and put my arms around his waist. I feel his body stiffen as though he just died and rigor mortis has kicked in.

‘I love you,’ I whisper in his ear, holding a little tighter.

‘Love you too,’ he says back, sweetly. ‘And I’m proud of you. You’ve taken on a lot in a time when you should be a big blob in front of the TV for a few months. Who says women can’t do it all?’

‘Thanks. Having a house husband helps.’

‘Having a progressive employer helps,’ he says, reminding me he will be going back to work as soon as this wedding is done.

I hold a little tighter, pushing my body into his back. He strokes my forearm like it’s a guinea pig at a petting zoo. Gently, as if it might bite, or give him fleas. Kind words flow out of him so easily, yet physical affection seems to get stuck just under the surface.

‘What are you doing?’ he says, elongating the ‘iiiiing’ in a fake playful tone.