It doesn’t take long to pull down a couple of boxes of books and one containing cushions and throws. At the top of the stairs, the landing is cold even though the sky outside is still a brilliant blue, and I feel a sense of déjà vu tickling at the base of my spine, the memory of my dream close and heavy. I peep into the bedroom to make sure the baby still has his blanket over him. As I lean over the cot, taking in his tufts of dark hair, the way his hands ball into fists on either side of his head, he stirs and I hold my breath, before leaning down and scooping him up. He nestles under my chin, his head bobbing as he roots around looking for food. Sinking into the nursing chair, I draw him close and let him feed, forgetting about the contents of the boxes that now need to be put away. Trying to forget about the creak of the stairs, the cold spot on the landing.

Twenty minutes later, I groan inwardly as I push the pram towards the preschool building. There is a large gathering of mothers outside, which tells me I am early and will have to wait until they open the doors. Usually I wouldn’t mind – I’m used to spending time chatting with customers as I create their bouquets – but I don’t want to make conversation today, the shadow left by the dream making me feel unsettled, as if a storm is brewing inside me. I wish now that Rav had a job where he could have stayed home from work.

‘Ahhh, let’s have a peep.’ A woman I think I vaguely recognize from previous pick-up and drop-off times peers into the pram, her hands clutching the handles of her own designer travel system. ‘Beautiful. How old is he now?’

‘He’s errr … he’s four weeks old now.’ I clutch the handle of the pram a little tighter, unnerved by her familiarity. I haven’t spoken to her before, I don’t think.

‘Rav back at work, is he?’ She smiles, showing perfect white teeth. ‘It’s nice to get into a routine, isn’t it?’

I stare at her for a moment, before nodding. ‘Yes. Always good.’ Rav must have been chatting to the mums when he dropped Mina off the first week I was home after having Leo. The one week that he could spare away from work. That would explain her familiarity. I peer over into the pram she is holding. ‘How old is your little one?’ I can’t tell if it is a boy or a girl.