‘I am,’ I lie, burying my face in my cup. ‘I am honestly OK.’ The baby wails and I jump, spilling hot tea on my shirt. ‘Oh, shit.’

‘Let me get him.’ Naomi is already on her feet, her hands reaching into the Moses basket for him. ‘Oh, baby, come on. Al, he still smells delicious … but he’s definitely hungry.’ The baby is twisting his head, rooting at her chest as she holds him close for a long moment before handing him over to me.

‘I didn’t even ask, is everything OK with you?’ I say, stuck where I sit now until the baby has finished.

‘Fine,’ Naomi says, ‘busy at work, and I went on the most awful date the other night, but apart from that everything is fine.’

‘Right. Well. That’s good.’ I run my hand over the baby’s head as he feeds, my eyes on his perfect peachy skin. ‘I just thought I should ask, you know. In case there was anything you were worried about or wanted to talk about. I know I’ve chewed your ear off.’

‘No.’ Naomi gives me a puzzled smile. ‘Everything is fine. You know I would tell you if I had something on my mind. Shall I get Mina a snack?’

I nod and Naomi takes Mina by the hand into the kitchen, as I think again about the text from her on Rav’s phone, telling him she needed to see him. I don’t know what to think. Am I seeing things that aren’t there? I can’t confront either of them until I am absolutely sure. I hear the fridge door open as I gingerly drink down the rest of my tea, careful to twist my head away from the baby. I get a fierce image in my head as I drink, of the cup slipping out of my grasp, the no longer boiling but still hot liquid scalding the baby’s delicate skin. Nausea rises in my gorge, warm liquid bracing the back of my throat and I lean over the arm of the sofa, letting the virtually empty cup fall to the floor.

‘Everything OK?’ Naomi appears in the doorway, glancing towards the tiny puddle of tea that has spilled onto the floor where I dropped the cup.

‘Couldn’t quite reach the floor.’ I offer up a wan smile, the image of the scalded baby still bright in my mind. Naomi mops up the small drops of spilled tea, talking about the new girl, Evie, how they went for a drink at The Black Horse, but I’m finding it hard to follow the conversation, my eyelids drooping.

Scratch. My eyes fly open and my shoulders tense. The baby unlatches and I freeze for a moment before I tug my top down. Scratch, scratch.

‘Did you hear that?’ I interrupt Naomi, who is still talking about Evie. ‘Did you hear that noise?’