Nicky chuckled to herself. Perhaps that was not the best approach to take. She knew she had to do something to shake Mark out of his complacency. But what?

A woman pushing a pram stopped and sat beside her on the bench. Carefully she lifted her baby out and sat him in her lap. She bounced him gently as he looked with wide eyes out onto the world passing before him.

Nicky felt a soft tug at her heart. They had talked about children. Often. They’d discussed having three or four and how they couldn’t wait to start their family.

Could she just let nature take its course? Let fate decide?

No. As desperate as she was to marry Mark, she couldn’t get pregnant to force his hand. That wouldn’t be fair.

What she could do, maybe, was use it as leverage in a discussion. Appeal to his paternal instincts. Given her family history if they wanted three or four kids, then it might not be wise to wait too long. Maybe this avenue was the one that could win her the argument.

She spent the rest of the day preparing the perfect evening. The apartment was immaculate. She bought fresh flowers for the table and ordered in Mark’s favourite meal, including dessert, from the little Portuguese bistro round the block. For the finishing touch she decided to wear her blue dress – his favourite.

She was surprised by her own eloquence and poise as she made her case to Mark. He dug in to his lemon meringue pie, and then sat back and listened to her reasoning.

‘So, that’s what tonight is all about, then?’ He crossed his arms in front of his chest. ‘Impressive argument, counsellor. How about this? In twelve months, I’ll have been partner long enough to be firmly entrenched, you’ll have had plenty of time to finish your next book, and we should be in a position then to get married.’

‘So, we’re setting the date? Twelve months from today?’

‘Looks like it.’

She ran around the table and hugged him tightly. ‘Oh, I can’t wait to be Mrs Avery and have little Marks running around the place.’

Nicky hadn’t slept so well in months. With the issue of the wedding date sorted, she’d slipped into a deep sleep and every morning for the last week, she’d needed her alarm to wake her up at five. She sat at her computer, the morning sun filtering through the window warming her back. Despite a week of blissful sleep, for the last few days the words remained stuck somewhere in her mind, inaccessible. She knew what was wrong. She couldn’t stop thinking about wedding plans. And wedding plans meant thinking about the bridal party. And that meant thinking about Jane.