She smiled but felt the familiar thread of panic needling her insides.

‘You look beautiful. Blooming, isn’t that what people say? Well, you really are. Everyone else is a sweaty mess but you look radiant.’

She looked down at her feet. ‘Let’s walk a bit,’ she said.

They strolled towards the Serpentine, past couples lounging on the grass, girls in bikinis, men with their tops off, as though it was Sunday on a beach in Spain, not a London park on an early Wednesday evening. Usually by now the British summer was preparing to pack its bags and head off for hibernation, but this year was different. It was interminable. The worst drought in 300 years, said her paper – and it wasn’t simply Max’s hyperbole, it was true.

‘Work okay?’ she asked.

‘Oh fine. I’m doing a piece on the EEC. Running next week.’ He paused. ‘But I don’t give a flying fuck about that. I just want you back, Syl. The flat’s so empty without you.’

‘Haven’t you bought any furniture?’ She said it as a joke, but he didn’t take it as such.

‘Not a thing. I’m waiting for you. It’s as empty as when you left it. Just my bed – our bed – and your favourite armchair.’

She thought of Maggie’s crowded bedroom. She ached for space. And she feared for the end of her friendship. It may not be where you imagined you’d be right now but that doesn’t make it bad. Maggie’s words came back to her. And how the hell else was she going to manage work and a baby if she didn’t go back to Jim? But that couldn’t be the reason she did.

They reached a shady spot near a cafe and she stopped, sat down under a tree and looked out at the Serpentine where a few rowing boats were meandering over the water. She thought of sitting with Anna next to the lake in Lausanne. The expression of delight on her face when Sylvia copied her own tentative sign language to indicate her due date. The obvious pride and excitement in Anna’s face as she put her hand on her belly. Was she, Sylvia, simply an ungrateful wretch? But then she thought of Jim’s words. You’re overreacting.

‘Jim,’ she started, ‘I need you to—’