But now I had something else to occupy my mind. I had been there so many times before but this time it had an edge to it. Something extra that I hadn’t felt before. My period was late by two weeks and it was all the evidence I needed. I knew this time I was going to keep this to myself. My husband would never need to know. He had already left the house, with all of his belongings. After that night together, I never saw him again. All I had left was this letter. And the growing life within me.

But he didn’t deserve to know about my pregnancy this time. I felt as though this was his parting gift to me. He had taken care of everything as he had spoken about in his letter to me so I knew I didn’t need to worry about money or paperwork. The house was to be handed over to me. A result of his guilty conscience. But I knew I wouldn’t be staying. The house was worth a fair bit now. I knew that and so I would leave. Far away as possible and start my new life, just me and my baby.

At last I felt in the same league as Jenny. We had a common ground that went beyond just being women.

We were like two teenage girls, giggling and wittering away at the back of the classroom. Emily glanced over regularly at us with a small smile of approval at our friendship and I thought my heart might burst with joy. I hadn’t ever experienced the newness of a friendship before, the eagerness to be by the side of another woman and share feelings I realised you could only ever share with a female. This was quite alien to anything I had ever experienced with my husband. It felt natural and easy. I felt proud to be next to Jenny and that she had chosen me to confide in and trust. The high I felt to be pregnant overshadowed any grief I felt for my failed marriage and the love lost between me and my husband.

I didn’t tell Jenny that I was with child. I kept that secret within me. I thought I would tell her when the time was right; when I was sure everything was going to be okay. This time, I knew it would be.

I imagined her face, how she would congratulate me with real sincerity and how when our children were born there would only be a few months between them in age and how they would play together. It was like a dream. I felt that I was the luckiest woman on earth to be given the chance of being a mother again even when my husband, the father of my child, was nowhere to be seen and busy making a life for himself somewhere else. I still had the opportunity for happiness. And who knew, maybe one day I would meet someone who would be willing to take on someone else’s child as their own. I had read about it enough times, there was no reason it couldn’t happen to me.