‘What?’ I whispered barely able to understand what was happening.

Ben stepped away from me and rubbed his face in his hands.

‘Who are you, Ben? I mean, you sweep into my life all melancholic and mysterious, not knowing what you want from life, always with that look in your eyes as though… as though, you haven’t got a bloody clue what is going on?’ I could feel the rage building and I continued. ‘And then the police? What’s with the police, hey? They drag you down to the station for seven hours and… and for what? You won’t even tell me what they asked you? And then I get to thinking, Ben, that day at the flat, you with your head in the oven? We already know what happened here when you were a kid with the fire, I mean… would you? Is that your bag? Starting fires? Would you do something like that? Did you even care for Eve? Do you even love me…?’

Ben looked over at me. His eyes seemed ever darker with the shadows underneath. His stubble had grown into the beginnings of a beard. His hair was longer. Everything about him, down to the way he glared at me, was unrecognisable. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and simply shook his head. He pulled on a hoody and headed for the door. He paused and walked back towards me.

‘Daisy. I have to go. I’ll be back before the baby is here. I promise you that.’ Ben leant in to embrace me but already I could feel something was missing. I pushed him away. He looked at me for a few seconds then walked out of the door. A part of me felt pure hatred for him right then, but another part of me ached to follow him out of the door and fall into his arms.

Instead I slumped down on the bed and soaked in the emptiness. Before long I felt weary again. I lay down on my side. As I did the baby began a short spurt of acrobatics. I felt the movements for a few minutes then closed my eyes.

I opened my eyes. Something had woken me. I was thrust from a dream where the echo of Ben’s voice was all around me in the room still and it sounded as though a crash and thud had brought me to. I leapt up and looked out of the window. It was lighter now, the sea was less rough and was gently lapping at the shore. Further along the shore I saw a woman and a small dog walking along the shingle beach.

I walked downstairs, poked my head into the lounge. I called once.

‘Ben? Annie?’ I couldn’t see or hear anyone.

I walked back into the hallway, and found the keys to my Renault. It was still early, barely 9 a.m. I felt a knot in my gut at the prospect of stepping outside, realising I hadn’t done so since before, when everything was normal; as it should be. Where my life seemed once to seamlessly roll from one day into the next, it was now jagged and uneasy. Every breath or step I took came with an acute sense of awareness, as though I might break at any moment.