A sudden pain shoots up the side of my abdomen, like something tearing the muscle apart. It disappears almost as fast as it arrived, but whatever it was, it’s a stark and visceral reminder that I need to protect myself and my baby. I need to get away from Catherine. Get away from this house.

I stand up, slowly, trying to ignore the trembling in my legs. Catherine’s gaze travels down to my bare feet. Her eyes widen in surprise. And that’s when I feel it: a trickle of something wet reaching my inner ankle.

I look down in horror. I’m bleeding.

“I need to call an ambulance. Where’s the phone? Give me the phone!”

But Catherine is just standing there, arms folded.

“For God’s sake, Catherine. Can’t you see what’s happening? I need to get to hospital. I need your help.”

An expression of distaste slides across her face. Then, in a sudden but entirely controlled movement, she walks over to the window and closes the curtains. “Sometimes these things are meant to be,” she says. “They’re nature’s way of telling you that something’s wrong.”

“What are you talking about? I’m four and a half months pregnant. I need to get to a hospital. What’s wrong with you? Where’s the fucking phone?”

My whole body is shaking. “Please, Catherine. You’ve got to help me. I’m high-risk, you know I am. This shouldn’t be happening.”

I feel dizzy and weak, so I sit down again. I need to keep calm and still. I need to rest. I need to be in a hospital!

She nods, slowly. “Yes, you’re quite right.”

My hopes soar. She isn’t a monster, after all. She’s going to help me. She has to help me.

“It shouldn’t be happening,” she says. There’s a glassy indifference in her eyes that scares me. “You should never have got pregnant in the first place.” Her face hardens. “And neither should your mother. If Ross had done the job properly, you wouldn’t even be here.”

My heart is racing so fast it hurts. I cross the palms of my hands on to my chest and press them down. Once again, my mind struggles to make sense of her words. “What do you mean? What are you saying?”

“He was meant to push her harder, to send her flying, but the little fool messed it up.” She sneers. “I should have done it myself.”

It takes several seconds for her words to sink in. When they do, a wave of revulsion almost knocks me back. “You mean…You mean Ross was the child my mum tripped over? You mean that was deliberate?”

She nods. “I dared him to do it, and he did. Now you’re going to lose your baby and I’m going to watch it happen.”