I reel back into the shadows, my legs suddenly feeling numb. They think I’m mad. Naomi thinks I’m mad. Rav thinks I’m mad. I press my hand to my mouth, biting down on the skin to stop the sting of tears behind my eyes. I’m not mad. On leaden feet I move back towards the door, the handle moving more easily than I thought. I tumble into the domestic scene playing out in front of me, Rav’s mouth opening in surprise.

‘Allie, you’re back. What are you doing coming in the back way? Did you forget your keys?’ He moves past me and pushes the door closed. I stand for a moment, just watching as Naomi carries on feeding the baby. A blush rises from the collar of her T-shirt, flushing her neck and cheeks a rosy pink.

‘Allie, do you want to take him?’ She nods down at the still feeding baby, her eyes flicking away from mine. ‘He was crying his eyes out and I … We didn’t know how long you would be.’

‘I only went to get nappies,’ I say, taking the baby from her. He grizzles as the teat is wrenched from his mouth, and when I pull my shirt up and place him at my breast he wails angrily and twists his head away from me.

‘Come on, baby,’ I mutter, trying again, but he only cries louder, the shrill sound scraping across the surface of my skin, down to my bones.

‘Maybe let him finish the bottle?’ Rav says tentatively, and I snatch it up, blinking away tears when the baby starts to gulp greedily. ‘That’s better.’ He leans over and kisses the baby’s head, seemingly oblivious to the rage I am sure is emanating from my every pore.

‘Rav was trying to cook and Leo just wouldn’t stop crying,’ Naomi explains, taking a sip of her wine. The air is thick with tension, the echo of their words reverberates around the small kitchen and I imagine them bouncing off the roughly plastered walls, the edge of the butler sink, settling on the table in front of us.

Instead, all I say is, ‘I fed him before I put him down. Before I went to the shop.’

‘That was nearly an hour ago,’ Rav says. ‘I thought you’d run off and left us.’ He tries a laugh, but it comes out flat and heavy.

‘I bumped into Miranda,’ I say as an explanation. ‘What are you doing here, anyway?’ I raise my eyes to Naomi’s, but she is looking at the baby, watching him feed.

‘I wanted to see how you were,’ she says, finally tearing her eyes away, ‘after this morning, you know.’ She flicks a quick glance towards Rav, but he has his back to us, stirring what smells like a risotto. ‘I wanted to make sure you were OK,’ she whispers.