She was sitting up straight. He could feel her staring at him, not looking away from him the way he had been looking away from her. She was sallow, exhausted. He wondered if he should get her something to eat. She hadn’t eaten. She hadn’t moved. He tried to pull her into a hug but she gasped like it hurt. There were damp patches on her T-shirt.

‘I want to try again,’ she said.

‘Try what again?’

She pulled her hand away from his and recoiled from him, just slightly.

‘You mean …?’

‘We can’t give up,’ she said. ‘I won’t give up. We have to try again.’

He didn’t respond, he didn’t know how. There was too much they didn’t know, how could she possibly … It was way too soon, too early to even think about it. What if it happened again? What if it was something … the risks were too great, surely she could see that. No, wait. She must mean … But then she hated it so much, would she really put that aside? But actually, she didn’t hate the pouch. She just thought it was wrong. That was different. Perhaps he should ask her what she meant. Just to clarify. They had to be able to talk to each other – he’d always felt they could.

‘You mean with the pouch?’

‘No!’

She was on her feet, moving to the window. Piotr felt a wave of exhaustion hit him, like he couldn’t face it, couldn’t face talking about it, couldn’t face getting anything else wrong. But then she was crying again and she came and sat next to him and put her hand, this time, on his leg as if she wanted to comfort him, or perhaps as if comforting him could comfort her as well.

‘Remember that bird?’ she said.

He did, though he wanted to pretend that he didn’t.

‘What bird?’

‘That little bird, the long-tailed tit. One of the ones with the tiny round bodies, you know the ones I mean?’

He nodded, reluctantly.

‘There was one,’ she continued, ‘the one I mean, that flew into the window and then lay there on the ground. For ages it lay there, unable to move. I thought it was going to die.’

‘I’m not sure what this has to do with …’

‘You told me it would be OK,’ she said, looking up at him as if she was seeing him in a new way. ‘You said it was stunned, but it would recover. I didn’t believe you.’

‘I didn’t know what I was talking about.’

‘But you were right,’ she said. ‘It was OK in the end, wasn’t it? It got up again and flew off.’

‘I can’t … I can’t allow another baby to die.’