She cast her mind back to the baby conversation that had turned into a surprise holiday. He had agreed to a baby. Not in so many words, but he’d said that she’d be a wonderful mother. And that we should plan it. She would expect nothing else from Tommy; he was a planner. Every major event of his life was meticulously thought through, all the way from his proposal to her (down on one knee on the white sands of their private beach in Jamaica) to the latest BMW (weeks of research into that one) and where to live and what sort of house to buy. Even selecting a bottle of Christmas whisky for his boss (back when he had one, before he became the boss) had involved a trip to the most expensive private clubs in London.

Needing to share, Paula grabbed her mobile and rattled off a text to Julie, before she remembered their argument. She deleted it slowly, and the excitement wavered.

We’ll be fine, we’ve had rows before, but I’m not apologising first.

Instead, she flicked onto Facebook, smiled at how many likes her steak post had got. And so it should, with the filters and the placement. She should have put it on Instagram, tagging all those food critics and top chefs. The new additions on the mantelpiece caught her eye, and with a smile stretching across her face, she took a photo of the tickets and posted the picture on her timeline with the words Unexpected present from Tommy! She added a heart emoji, then, satisfied, sent it out to be admired by her many friends.

Her phone lit up, compliments already pouring in. Tommy is the best! gushed one friend. You’re SO LUCKY, said another, and a third, He’s a keeper!

Finally satisfied, she put the phone down, screwed the lid back on the moisturiser and climbed into bed next to the already snoring Tommy.

‘Love you, babe,’ she whispered, planting a kiss on his bare shoulder.

Then she reached over and turned out the light.

Anna opened the oven door to check on William’s pie. It was nearly done, and she turned up the grill to allow the chips to catch up.

She rearranged her apron, making sure it covered the new dress. It wouldn’t do to get any food stains on it. She’d wanted to change back into her jeans once she’d modelled it for William, but he insisted she keep it on.

‘Your figure looks very lovely in it,’ he’d said softly.

Anna was quietly furious. She knew she looked good in it, but it wasn’t for William’s admiring gaze. She had relented, though; he had bought it after all. She needed to keep him sweet.

‘Dinner’s ready,’ she called. ‘Do you want it on your lap or at the table?’

‘Table,’ he replied, walking slowly into the room. ‘And you can sit with me.’