For one terrifying moment I can’t remember, and I almost say ‘last night’. ‘Earlier, not too long ago, when Avó left.’ I hold out my arms and Rav lays the baby in them, so I can feed him. He latches on immediately, not like before when he has fussed and rooted for ages, always after someone has given him a bottle. I sigh, relieved the screams have stopped. The baby’s skin is hot and clammy, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he drinks. A low scratch comes from the wall to the left of me and I turn my face away, looking at Rav who stands in the doorway with Mina.

‘What time is it?’ I ask, suddenly aware that the sun has dipped completely behind the trees.

‘Just gone seven.’

‘Oh gosh!’ I look away, training my eyes on the baby’s head. I feel exposed, as if my nerves are electrified. ‘I didn’t realize it was so late.’ No wonder the baby was screaming, this is the longest he’s ever gone between feeds. I can’t believe I didn’t hear the children crying. I feel sick at the idea of Mina calling for me and not getting a response.

‘I take it you’ve fed Mina?’

I swallow, feeling the shame rise up my cheeks. ‘I’m sorry, Rav, I got lost in the painting. You know how I lose all track of time when I get involved in something creative.’ I couldn’t tell you how many times he’s had to come and draw me away from the shop.

‘I know.’ His voice softens slightly, and I think that maybe, just maybe my mother was right. By starting to paint the mural, Rav will believe me when I say I’m back to my old self. ‘I’ll go and make her something to eat, if you don’t mind packing your painting things out of the way so she can go to bed.’

‘Of course.’ I breathe out a sigh of relief as he leaves.

I bath the baby and lay him in the Moses basket that I have left in the corner of Mina’s room. I want our bedroom to be just ours for a while tonight, to spend some time alone with Rav. I have to talk to him, to clear the air. I push the thought of the suitcase in the attic out of my mind. He hasn’t used it, not yet, and if I can make things right, he won’t need to. When Rav comes back down from putting Mina to bed, he doesn’t comment on the fact that the baby is sleeping in the Moses basket instead of the cot.

‘Do you want some tea?’ Rav asks. ‘Or are you hungry? I can cook.’

I shake my head to both. I don’t have any appetite and the very thought of the tea makes me feel nauseous.