When I walked back into Ben’s room wrapped in a thick towel, Annie had blitzed the room. The window was open an inch which had allowed a cool breeze to filter through. She had changed the bed sheets and there was an artificial floral smell about the air. On the bed were slouchy trousers, a soft cotton T-shirt and fresh underwear folded within an inch of their life by meticulous Annie. There was a cup of hot coffee on the bedside table. It was a thoughtful gesture and I was feeling tired, the most annoying of the many symptoms of pregnancy. I dressed and then drank the coffee which was by this point at optimum drinking temperature.

When I went downstairs, I found Annie sitting in the lounge flicking though one of her many home interior magazines, a cup of coffee sat half-drunk on the table in front of her.

‘Better?’ Annie asked looking up briefly. It was as if all those words she had sent my way about how Ben no longer loved me had never happened; evaporated and forgotten about. I wondered how she could simply switch her emotions towards me. More so, I considered how she really saw me, what her true thoughts were. She was becoming increasingly difficult to read.

I stroked the fine fabrics of the trousers and an image flickered though my mind of Ben standing in the shops, picking them out for me. ‘Yes. Thank you. And thanks for cleaning the room.’

‘Well, I’ve always done it for Ben. He likes a clean room.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Did you get your coffee?’

‘Yes, yes I did. It was the… perfect drinking temperature.’ My words felt forced and unnatural as though I had to think about how to formulate them. ‘I’m going to nip to the big supermarket. Go and pick up a few bits. Then, you know…’ I rubbed my head which felt fuzzy.

‘Well at least you don’t have rent to worry about.’ Annie’s eyes remained fixed on her magazine.

‘I don’t know what you mean, Annie?’

‘I mean, you can go and get your shopping, worry free. You don’t owe me anything for staying here.’

I couldn’t work out her tone, if she was being sincere or she was offended. But I could feel my head spinning. I took a deep breath, turned and walked to the coat hooks where my handbag was. I must have turned too quickly because I felt almost too dizzy to stand. I pushed my hand against the wall and regained my balance. I retrieved the handbag and walked back to the lounge.

Annie eyed me over her magazine. ‘Everything okay, dear? You don’t look too good.’

‘No, I’m fine, I just. I’m sure I’ve got some cash in here somewhere…’ I thrust my hand into my handbag as I arrived back in front of Annie. I pulled out a couple of twenty-pound notes and shoved them towards her. Annie looked at them, her expression one of horror.