Fleur had closed her ears. She was not going to miscarry. She was not going to lose her twins.

David had been flown back from exercise in Norway to see her. She had watched him walk up the ward, his face pale and anxious. She had put out her hand and smiled reassuringly. ‘It’s OK, darling. I’m doing everything I’m told. I’m not going to lose our babies. Really, it’s going to be all right.’

He had taken her hand and held it to his lips, then turned his cheek, keeping her fingers pressed against his face. He had dark rings under his eyes and looked unwell.

‘What is it?’ she whispered, alarmed by the feel of his hand in hers trembling.

He could not meet her eyes. Fleur suddenly became still. Her body felt as if it was crouched…waiting.

‘I don’t deserve you, Fleury,’ he said. ‘There’s something I need to tell you…’

‘No!’ she interrupted quickly, withdrawing her hand in fury. ‘I won’t hear it! Whatever it is! I’m trying to keep my babies and I don’t care if you’ve been unfaithful. I don’t care what you’ve done. Go away, don’t upset me. Why now? Why try and tell me something now, David?’

He got to his feet, wretched. ‘Because I’m a selfish bastard. Fleur, I love you to death…Of course I haven’t been unfaithful…I’ll come back later.’ He had turned and almost run out of the ward.

Fleur had closed her eyes in relief. It was all right, he hadn’t been unfaithful and he loved her, nothing else mattered.

On one of the postcards he sent her daily from Norway, he had written:

‘Fleury, I was just going through a long night of the soul. Felt I did not deserve you or children. I’m knackered too. New OC is a bastard. It’s been a tough exercise out here – longing to get back to you. We’ve got so, so much ahead of us, haven’t we? Forgive me. I love you…David.’

From somewhere at the back of the house Fleur could hear the cackle of laughter as the amah gossiped or played mah-jong. I am so glad, Fleur thought, that I didn’t let him tell me then. That I didn’t know for years. I have those lovely few years of not knowing.

But all that time you knew something wasn’t right, didn’t you, if you’re honest? Come on, admit it.

Yes, I knew. Nikki came softly into the room and looked down at her mother through the mosquito net. It was a double bed and Fleur looked so small in it. The cup of tea in her hand wobbled. All these years, I had it so wrong. You and Fergus. All that I did to you both. All that I said and you never ever defended yourselves. Never screamed the truth back at me.

‘Mum? Are you asleep?’

Fleur jumped and sat up. ‘No Nik. Lift the net.’

Nikki hooked the net back and peered in. ‘I’ve made you a cup of tea.’