‘Well, I can see that.’ I looked under the table. There was no sign of little Mikee. ‘Where’s your little one today?’

‘Oh, my mum has come to visit for a few days, so I left him at home with her. I thought it would help. I’ve got so much on my mind. But I feel a little lost without him.’ Jenny stopped rifling and looked past me into thin air. ‘Truth is, Grace, they are like my limbs. I can’t function properly without them.’ Jenny waved away her last comment ‘Besides, I’m thinking about a million things. Got so much to sort out. I don’t know what I was thinking about coming here today.’

I leant in a little closer and that was when I saw it. Jenny had done a good job of covering it up but I could see the rainbow of blues, reds and greens hiding beneath a sheen of concealer and pressed powder. Jenny’s hand was intermittently finding its way to her cheek.

‘Well. Is there anything I can help you with?’ I motioned to the cluttered workstation. The bruise was clear as day to me, but the mess on her counter was something I could fix right away.

‘Well. Yes. If you wouldn’t mind…’

Thirty minutes later, I had prepped the dough and it was sitting neatly in a bowl, proving. I cleared the work surface and left it as gleaming as if it were my own.

‘How do you do that?’ Jenny said from the chair she was now sitting in, relaxing with a cup of coffee.

‘Do what?’ I asked.

‘Make it look such a breeze. You come in here every week and look like you haven’t got a care in the world.’

My laugh came out like a tremble. ‘Well, looks can be deceptive.’

Sometimes I felt ready to spill everything about my fairy tale dream that was unravelling back home. Jenny frowned at me and cocked her head. ‘Surely not you, Grace. You have it all. A wonderful house and husband. No kids! God, all that time to yourself to think!’

‘Well, sometimes having too much time to think is not good.’ I wiped my hands on my apron and looked down at my feet.

Jenny took a deep breath in ‘Well, yes. That’s true. I would go mad if I didn’t have my three to distract me.’

‘Yes, it’s a shame not to see little Mikee down there today.’

‘Oh, don’t worry. He’ll back causing havoc next week!’

‘Ah, he’s no bother.’

‘No, you’re right. He’s a good boy. I couldn’t have asked for a better child.’

‘You’re very lucky, Jenny,’ I said.

‘Oh, I don’t know, Grace.’ Jenny smoothed her hands over her tiny bump and we both fell silent for a few moments; each of us immersed in our own thoughts. ‘Can’t wait to see how my bread has turned out! Although you will have to take all the glory for nurturing it back to life for me. You are very kind, Grace.’ She leant forward and touched my arm. ‘You’ll make a wonderful mother one day.’ And as though Jenny had just cast a spell over me, I suddenly felt an overwhelming sensation – a fire was alight in my belly. I knew I would be a good mother. I would often imagine myself pattering down the hallway to tend to the baby at all hours of the night, whilst my happy husband slept contentedly in our bed. The next morning he would tweak the cheek of his son or daughter and kiss me on the head before heading blithely to work, content that everything was as it should be.