I turn into Dad’s driveway and Mr Angry zooms past with his hand down on the horn. It makes me jump, and I almost crash into the gatepost. Some people are utter arseholes. I realise I’m shaking and there’s a fluttering in my belly. Is that…? Could that be the baby? Or perhaps it’s just anxiety caused by that idiot. If he’s upset my baby, I’ll… I sigh, relax my shoulders and give a wry smile, placing a hand over my stomach. I’m already so protective. I need to calm down and forget about that guy. He’s not important.

I park the car next to Dad’s ancient blue Ford Mondeo and hunch myself against the icy rain as I hurry up to the front door. I still have a key, so I use it and call out to let him know I’m here. Dad comes out of the kitchen into the hall. ‘Hi, love. It’s coming down out there.’

I wipe the rain off my face.

‘Nice to see you with some colour in your cheeks. You were very pale at the wedding.’

‘Hi, Dad.’ I lean in for a brief hug and a peck on his cheek. ‘We had good weather on our honeymoon.’

‘Oh yeah? That’s good. Had a good trip, did you?’

‘Yes, thanks. You should have come to Celia and Malcolm’s for Christmas. Everyone missed you. How was Wales?’

‘Oh, you know, the usual.’

‘And Aunty Caroline?’

‘Fine. She sends her love. Want a cup of tea? Kettle’s on.’ He turns and heads back into the kitchen.

‘Just a glass of water please.’

He glances back. ‘No tea? What’s wrong with you?’

The kitchen is a mess, with papers and bits of old machinery covering the worktops and table. Empty mugs and dirty plates plug the gaps. Dad has always been fairly messy but living on his own has made him so much worse. I raise an eyebrow.

‘Don’t start,’ he mutters. ‘I’ll have a tidy round in a day or two once I’ve got this bike engine running.’ Dad’s only passion in life – since Mum – is motorbikes. He’s always tinkering with bits of old engine. Mum never used to let any of it inside the house, and he respected her wishes, for a long time even after she died. But lately, he’s let all that go.

‘Want me to help clear up?’ I offer. ‘I could do the dishes and tidy away some of this…’ I gesture to the sink area.

‘No, I’m in the middle of something.’ He tuts. ‘Stop fussing, Zoe.’

‘What is it you’re doing? Actually, don’t worry. Shall we sit in the lounge?’

‘What’s wrong with in here?’ He points to an empty seat.