“I get it,” he says. “I don’t know if this is an appropriate time to mention this, but I was going to ask if you’re up for a visit tomorrow lunchtime to the new pizza place on the high street? The children have been asking, and it would be great to have adult company. No pressure, though, only if you’re feeling okay? Ben’s welcome, too. All on me, of course.”

I smile. “Ben is working. But I’d love to, thanks.”

“It’s a date,” he says.

As I drive away, guilt hits at the broken pact with myself. Should I have told the truth, that I’m on my way to an appointment with my therapist? I’ve always kept it private. Maybe I should be more open with the people I trust, admit that I need help?

Yet, when it comes to doctors, dentists, fake work appointments, surely everyone fibs? It’s not just me. Lies make life palatable. It’s simply unavoidable at times. I do it to protect myself and others. Surely, it’s not a bad thing to tell people what they want to hear? Sometimes, there’s no choice.

Judy throws me.

“Why don’t you just ask Ben if he still wants children rather than risk miscommunication with all this guesswork?”

“Because what do I do if I don’t like the answer?”

“What do you think you should do?”

This is followed by the horrible silence which unnerves me so badly. Maybe it’s time to move on from Judgmental Judy. Therapists are supposed to be impartial. Does craving a baby with a long-term partner make me a bad person? No, it does not. Ben will make a wonderful dad. On the whole, we’re a great team and it’s normal to have wobbles. A baby is a big commitment. It’s good, in a way, that he’s doubting himself. It means he’s taking things seriously.

“The thing is,” I say, choosing my words carefully, “Ben took some persuading.”

The whole truth being that he thought it wasn’t just about him, that it was primarily all about me and my desires.

“I feel like I could be just any man,” he has said many times during our arguments. “As long as you get a baby, the father is irrelevant to you.”

I’ve worked so bloody hard on our relationship to prove that isn’t true. I’ve made so many compromises, told him whatever he wants to hear.

“Everything will be fine,” I say out loud to Judy. “Once Ben made the decision to go ahead and start a family, he was committed. Ben is a man of his word.”

I don’t like the expression on her face.

I got it wrong. As I leave Judy’s (five minutes early. I couldn’t bear it any longer), I switch on my phone. Ben wants to talk.

In my experience, no one ever wants to talk about anything positive. I hate it when people do this, Ben knows that. Perhaps it’s his way of letting me know quite how pissed off he is with me in general. My parents wanted to talk about “forming other friendships and not relying solely on Nina” and “the importance of telling the truth.” Nina wanted to talk about lots of things, but I’m good at diverting conversations away from the unpleasant and back to neutral, less scary ground. It’s where I feel safe.