I feel calmer now, as through the scrubbing action and acrid smell of the bleach has washed away my feelings of doubt and fear. Closing my eyes, I let the sun warm my cheeks, before I open them and look out onto the garden. There is thick woodland at the bottom of the garden, once you have crossed an expanse of green lawn, the grass thick and lush in most places before it thins in the shade of the trees. I need to remind Rav to mow it at the weekend, I think, my gaze drawn to the thick herb borders that line either side of the garden. There is a pond at the back of the lawn, not far from where the woods start, the water a murky green with reeds and water plants crowding the surface. Rav talked about filling it in when we first moved in, worried that it was unsafe for the children, but he hasn’t done it yet, despite my nagging. There is something about it that I don’t like, maybe just the idea of an open expanse of water, albeit small, where the children play. Whatever it is, I’ll tell Rav again this weekend. I’ll tell him it’s got to be filled in. The garden, and the woods beyond it are partly the reason why Rav wanted the house so desperately. Having grown up splitting his time between the Kent countryside and Colva Beach in Goa, Rav can’t bear to be kept indoors. When we met in Goa, Rav there with his elder brother and his parents, visiting his aunts and uncles, and me with Darron and Sue, two backpacker friends I’d picked up in Thailand and travelled on with, I’d been drawn to his infectious energy. The way the sunlight, the sand, the crashing waves as we sat in a shack on the beach eating hot, crispy prawns and oily, garlicky naan bread seemed to bring him to life. Later, when we were living together in a flat on the outskirts of Ebbsfleet with no outside space, I saw that energy fade as I watched him grow more and more weary and fed up, so I couldn’t turn him down when he brought me to view this cottage.

‘Al, just look at this garden. Think about Mina, and the new baby.’ He nudges me, and I smile even though there isn’t a new baby, not yet. We’ve only just started trying, not even three months ago. ‘You’re so close to work, it’s perfect. I don’t mind a bit of a longer commute, although really it isn’t going to be that much longer, and it’s not too far from my mum’s new house. She’ll be about to help with the kids.’