I didn’t know how to respond to this. It was unlike her to say something like this and I was touched, but a little confused.

‘Yeah, well …’ I said, lamely.

‘And how is Anya feeling?’ she said.

‘She’s okay,’ I replied. I knew for a fact she had spoken to her mother that day, so was unsure why she was asking me.

Her eyes searched my face.

‘I mean, about the baby?’

I made a puzzled face. ‘I’m not sure what you mean?’

She lowered her voice then, and her eyes flicked to the door, almost nervously.

‘I mean, does she seem happy and excited? About the baby coming?’

I gave an embarrassed little laugh. ‘Of course,’ I said, ‘we both are.’

She nodded and then placed a hand on my arm.

‘I think this will be a big change for you. It may be that it takes time for her to adjust but if you’re ever worried, at any time, I want you to—’

She stopped speaking abruptly then as Patrick called out, ‘All sorted! Fancy a drink first, Elliott, or should I run you home?’ He appeared in the doorway and clearly knew we’d had an odd exchange because his brow furrowed.

‘Everything okay, Julia?’ he said, rather pointedly.

She smiled tightly. ‘Everything is fine,’ she said. ‘I was just asking about how Anya was feeling.’

Patrick and his wife exchanged loaded looks and then Patrick was all bluster again.

‘Right, right!’ he said. ‘Anyway, we should probably get you home to our daughter and that bump, shouldn’t we?’

‘Yep,’ I said, and met Julia’s eyes. She was staring right at me, her expression flat.

WINTER 2018

ELLIOTT

Despite Julia’s odd comment and everything that had happened that autumn, things fell into an uneasy peace as we headed towards Christmas. There was an odd sense that we were living in a permanent held breath; that this was the calm before the storm.

Anya was feeling well now and, as her bump gradually expanded, the distance between us conversely closed over cosy evenings watching telly. She saw surprisingly little of her parents and we hunkered down at home, a unit, a soon-to-be-three.

She never spoke about anything that had happened, recently or in 2003. It was as though a lid had been firmly sealed on the whole topic in a way that I marvelled at. It also scared me a little, how effectively she was able to compartmentalize.

If I ever tried to bring any of it up, she closed things down quickly, becoming distressed and protectively placing both hands on her growing belly.

But I wasn’t so good at forgetting.

I often found myself, in quiet moments, trying to work out a series of complex emotional equations.