He had whispered to her one morning, as they woke in their tiny carriage, entangled, the sun bursting its way through that flimsy white curtain and the snow on the Gobi Desert reflecting more light than she’d ever seen. It wasn’t featureless though, wild as it was, it was curved and cupped, that snow. She could imagine movement in it, as if it were flowing, slipping through the air like satin. Yes, she remembered what he’d whispered, as they looked out at the Gobi Desert – she remembered it word for word. It was the moment that had changed everything. His breath tickling her ear, his arm heavy over her chest, the lurching of the cabin.

The train had pulled into London Bridge, and Eva looked up to realise she was the only one left in the carriage. She grabbed her bag and the paper lying beside her, ran to the train door, pressing the button repeatedly to make sure it didn’t close on her. It was a panic out of proportion. They weren’t supposed to close on a person, these train doors – they had special detectors to make sure they were perfectly safe – but somehow she was never quite convinced about that. Things had a habit of closing on her when they shouldn’t have, and she knew that it could hurt.

As the rest of the family chatted downstairs and planned the celebrations, Holly stood in front of the long mirror in her bedroom. Every now and then she could hear the pop of a party balloon that had been filled with too much air, followed by a pretend-scream and a giggle. She had bought balloons in every colour and shape she could find, the bright reds and yellows of children’s birthdays mixed in with elegant silvers, smiling cartoon faces and friendly monkeys. It had become a family tradition, the balloons, started on the day Daphne was born, her first child. It hadn’t been a room full of balloons then, though, it had just been the one.

She had worn the pouch herself as she and Will walked, hand in hand, into the FullLife birthing centre. She’d thought it was an important statement – she needed to show the world that this was her choice. She had not given anything up. She was carrying her own child, in the way that she chose. Will had suggested, although it was already what she was thinking, that they take turns carrying their children into the birthing centre to be born. It gave a lovely equality to the matching photos. Holly carried Daphne, and two years later Will carried their second daughter, Leigh. Then Holly carried Aarav but by then the press had cooled off and they’d swapped over in the lift because Holly was better at keeping Daphne and Leigh from fighting.