I pushed a pillow under my stomach and wrapped the duvet around me. I could hear the sound of the wind batting against the window and I imagined the force of it colliding with the noxious thoughts in my head and forcing them out. But it didn’t. Instead I fell into a fitful slumber plagued by the words that made no sense and with the haunting image of Annie’s placid expression at the forefront of my mind.

I woke suddenly to the sound of Annie placing down a tray on the bedside table. On it was a bowl of homemade tomato soup and some thick crusty bread.

‘This will make you feel great,’ she advised. ‘Better to get those nutrients in you now, the baby will literally be sucking the life out of you, you’ll be wasting away.’

The memories I had forced away all those years ago were seeping back. I was young and the sickness knocked me off my feet. So used to flitting around without a care, suddenly I was burdened with the nausea from hell. I didn’t know what to do with myself.

‘Thank you, Annie,’ I said and sat up. She gave me a weak smile and left the room.

Soon after I finished the soup, I began to feel tired again. The baby was growing fast, it was understandable I would feel this drained. I placed the tray on the bedside table and I lay down. I closed my eyes just to rest them for a moment.

I woke at dusk. I hauled myself out of bed with a groggy head and I forced myself to go downstairs. I found Annie in the kitchen preparing Tupperware boxes of food. She turned when she heard me come in.

‘Just getting a few lunches made up for you. Soups and pastas and the likes. You slept for a while. I told you you needed the rest, didn’t I?’ I nodded. Sleep still enveloped me.

‘Tea?’ Annie flicked the switch on the kettle. ‘I was just making one. Are you hungry?’

‘Erm, not just yet,’ I rubbed my eyes trying to bring myself back to the present. Everything still felt dreamlike; I had slept long and hard.

‘Go and sit down. I’ll bring your tea through.’ Annie waved me out of the room.

I settled myself on the sofa, picked up a country lifestyle magazine and started to flick through. I tried to imagine the perfect country idyllic life that the magazine portrayed and wondered if anyone actually reached the point where they felt pure satisfaction with everything. Surely a checked throw or a cream Aga weren’t the answer to everything. Surely the people that lived in these worlds still had problems. Didn’t they?

‘Did Ben come out when he was ready?’ I asked when Annie returned to the lounge with the tea. I surprised myself with the question and realised I had been unconsciously thinking of the birth. Annie didn’t reply straight away, she looked at me for a few moments and when she answered it was as though she were looking straight through me.