‘Anyway, what are you doing here?’ I say, stretching out my legs.

‘I had a client meeting in Chelsea,’ he says, readjusting his towel. ‘It finished earlier than I expected. There was no point going all the way back east so I’ve been doing some work here.’

I look at him. His eyes look strange and there’s a manic edge to his voice.

‘Anyway, I’m glad you’re here,’ he says jumpily, ‘because I’ve got a surprise for you. I was going to give it to you this evening but … give me a minute.’

My eyes grow heavier and as I hear his footsteps disappear down the corridor I close them and feel myself start to drift.

‘Vanessa.’

I look up. Connor is now dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt. He’s holding something in his hands, a small velvet box. He sits down next to me on the sofa and opens the box. Inside is a pear-shaped diamond ring.

‘Connor, I really don’t think …’ I begin, my head foggy with sleep.

‘Shh, it’s okay,’ he says, his voice less manic now. ‘This ring belonged to my grandmother. I loved her very much and when she died she left me this ring with a note telling me to give it to the woman I wanted to marry.’

My chest tightens. I don’t understand. Only this morning he was telling me I’d murdered our child and now he’s asking me to marry him.

‘You’re probably feeling overwhelmed,’ he says, taking the ring out of its box. ‘I just would love you to wear it. It can be our little way of healing, I guess. After everything we’ve been through these last couple of weeks I think we need something to look forward to, some good news to outweigh the bad.’

I have no words. I’m dog-tired and the cramps have started up again. They are not as painful as they were but sharp enough to make me feel rather queasy. I look down at the ring and laugh. It’s a nervous laugh but Connor seems to interpret it as acceptance.

‘I knew you’d love it,’ he says, slipping the ring on to my finger. ‘Now we can move on properly, really plan our life together.’

I look down at the ring and I feel nauseous suddenly.

‘I know,’ says Connor, jumping to his feet. ‘Let’s go for a drink to celebrate.’

‘Connor, no,’ I say, rubbing my head. ‘I still don’t feel too good.’

‘We won’t go far,’ he says, grabbing my jacket and bag and handing them to me. ‘Just up to Lavender Hill. And we can have sparkling water.’

To be honest, the thought of staying in this flat on such a warm day is not an appealing one. At least in the open air I can clear my head.