Penny and Francesco took more afternoon walks around the reservoir, fitting them in after her service but before his, and kissing at what Penny thought of as ‘their’ gate. They talked on the phone. They texted when they woke up, and before they went to sleep. They made plans, starting sentences with ‘We should …’ or ‘We could …’ or ‘Shall we …’ Penny wasn’t used to being a ‘we’. It was seductive. The ‘us’ thing … well, ‘us’ felt okay with Francesco. She didn’t feel the usual fear and she didn’t feel like she had to hold him away from her, close enough to know him but far enough away so that he’d never truly know her. She liked him. And what was more, she was starting to trust him. Maybe I will tell him about the kids thing, she reflected. Sooner rather than later.

‘Wow,’ said Clementine, as they sat together on a bench in Clissold Park. ‘Big feelings are happening.’

‘Maybe?’ Penny replied. ‘I daren’t believe it, but I think … yes?’

‘Well you’ve got to figure out the bedroom thing then. Without a doubt.’

Francesco and Penny had tried again to find their sexual groove, but it still wasn’t right. It was like there was something else in the room with them, some third entity that distracted them and made them too self-conscious to enjoy the moment. It was maddening. They’d started to laugh about it, which eased the mood, but they were yet to manage a ten-out-of-ten romp. They were stalling at about a three-and-a-half. A C-minus. Passable at a push.

‘Everything goes where it should, and the theory is all there,’ explained Penny. ‘But in practice it’s not exactly on fire, you know?’

‘Well,’ said Clementine, ‘that kind of fits in to what I wanted to talk to you about.’

‘Okay …’ said Penny, searching her sister’s face for clues but coming up short. Clementine wanted to talk about Penny’s lacklustre sex life?

‘I wanted to tell you that I’ve given this a lot of thought, and – just so you know, and in case you wanted me to – when you’re ready, I would absolutely love to be your surrogate.’

‘My surrogate?’ said Penny, stunned.

‘Your surrogate,’ repeated back Clementine, nodding. Smiling. She did a little ‘ta-da!’ motion with one hand, but Penny didn’t smile back.

‘You want to be my surrogate.’

‘I really, really do, Pen.’

They were clutching hot chocolates from the café in the middle of the park, where Clementine went every morning when she was in London to ensure she hit her daily 10,000 steps.

‘Can we sit down?’ Penny said. ‘Just for a minute. This is … a lot.’

‘We are sitting down,’ said Clementine, her voice quiet. ‘Are you okay? I figured you knew this was coming …’

‘Yes, I’m okay,’ Penny said. ‘No. I wasn’t expecting this.’