“I was driving back from Birmingham this morning when I had a call from Henry Mathers in Nantwich,” he said. “He asked if I’d call in for a chat. His office is in the market square right next to a cake shop so I bought some cakes for people at work.” He put a box tied up with ribbons on the kitchen table. “And I couldn’t miss you out.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Eagerly I opened the box and looked down at the beautifully glazed strawberry tart, the perfect pastel macarons, and the chocolate éclair with fresh cream spilling from it, but instead of my mouth watering with anticipation, I turned from them.

“I thought they were the ones you liked,” said Harry.

“They are.” I pushed the box away from me. “They look gorgeous. Thanks for bringing them. It’s just this sickness. I can’t wait for it to stop.” I couldn’t tell him that now I felt sick because I was being bullied by Ruby’s husband.

I got up from the table to pour some water from the fridge. Iced water seemed to be the only thing that helped the nausea. Harry stood, too, and wrapped his arms around me. I breathed in the safe familiar smell of his cologne, felt his heart beating against mine. He kissed me on the cheek but somehow it seemed automatic. I pulled back to look at him. His face was pale and strained and he looked distracted. It reminded me so much of how he was before I discovered I was pregnant, and my heart fell. Was his recent change of mood over? I couldn’t bear to go back to the way we were.

“Are you all right?” I asked anxiously. “Everything okay at work?”

“I’m fine.” He stretched out his arms and sighed. “It was just a busy day. All I want to do is to relax.”

“Come and sit down. Fancy a beer?”

We sat at the kitchen table and he had a beer and I had water while he ate one of my cakes. That was inevitable. All I could think of was my phone, on vibrate in my jeans pocket, as I waited for an e-mail to come through about the DNA of my baby. I knew it was too late for them to contact me but I couldn’t turn it off just in case. I had to know the very second there was news.

When my phone did vibrate I nearly collapsed.

“Is that your phone?” asked Harry. He took another beer from the fridge. He had no clue what that message would mean for us.

I kept my face as still as I could and took the phone from my pocket. It was a message from Tom. Immediately I switched off my phone.

“Just work stuff,” I said. “I don’t want to think about it now.”