The light outside has dulled; grey afternoon faded to a bone-chilling darkness that envelops the building and seeps through the windows. Catriona sits on the sofa, knees pulled up to her chest, feeling the varying weights of everything – the ache of what lies beyond the garden, the heavy shape of the child in the back bedroom. And the deep dread of what it will be like when Darren arrives home. Sweet, kind, doting Darren – her boyfriend, her rock, her home. The father of her child. But what will happen next?

Catriona rushes into the kitchen and throws up in the stainless-steel sink. There’s nothing much left inside of her to get rid of, but her body is determined to expel every last drop. She gasps and heaves and then rinses her mouth directly from the tap. As she spits out clean water and wipes a hand across her clammy forehead, she hears the front door slam. Her stomach lurches and she retches once again, but nothing comes out this time. She straightens up and takes a breath. She must stay calm. She can’t let her body and emotions betray her.

‘Hey, Caty! It’s me! Why’s it so dark in here?’ The hall light comes on, tentacles of light spreading into the kitchen, trying to reach her. ‘That’s better. Where are you both? Caty? Grace?’ Darren finally pokes his head around the kitchen door. Catriona winces as he switches on the light and gives her his usual grin, his dark-brown curls sprinkled with plaster dust. She blinks and squints, hoping she doesn’t look too much like the walking dead. ‘Blimey, what were you doing in here in the dark?’ He stands there in his dusty, plaster-covered work clothes. ‘Shit…’ Darren stares at her, his smile disintegrating into shock, his dark eyes filling with worry. ‘You okay, Caty? You don’t look well at all. What’s wrong? You ill?’

‘Uh, yeah… stomach bug,’ she says automatically, putting a hand over her queasy belly, realising that the lie will only get her so far.

‘Oh, poor baby. Why don’t you go and have a lie down? Where’s Grace? Is she okay?’

‘She’s… in bed.’

‘Oh no. Has she got it too?’

Catriona feels the edges of her sanity peeling away. ‘She’s not great at the moment.’

‘Really? Did you call the doctor?’

Catriona shakes her head, wondering how to detangle herself from the untruths that are starting to knot themselves around her. Is this what life will be like now? ‘Don’t worry. It’s just a bug. She’ll be okay after a sleep.’

Darren frowns, unconvinced. ‘She hasn’t got a temperature, has she? Let me grab the thermometer from the bathroom.’