‘That’s because Avó had to stay home and feed all the pigs and chickens. Is that what you want?’ Rav scoops her up into his arms and throws her over his shoulder, fireman’s lift style as she shrieks and giggles. I shoot him a grateful look as he marches her upstairs and feel a pang of love shoot through me. Everyone said we wouldn’t last, that I didn’t know him when I married him. Which was true to some extent – after all, we had met on a beach by the Indian Ocean, in a place that felt magical. Within three months of being home, I was living in his tiny cramped flat in Ebbsfleet, and we had discovered we were about to have a baby. One hastily arranged marriage later, much to his mother’s horror and many of my mother’s Gallic shrugs, we were married in the Archbishop’s Palace, our union sealed, a true whirlwind romance.

Thirty minutes later, Mina is ready for preschool, and I remember today to make sure she is wearing plimsolls. Rav is at the door as I hustle the baby into the pram, his fingers tapping at the screen of his phone.

‘You’re late leaving this morning.’

Rav looks up in surprise, although how he couldn’t have noticed us all piling into the narrow hallway, I have no idea. He slides his phone quickly into his pocket, something like guilt crawling across his face.

‘Rav? Everything OK?’

‘Yes, fine. All fine.’ He fusses over the pram, leaning in to kiss the baby on the head, almost as though he doesn’t want to make eye contact with me.

‘Sure? Who was that you were texting?’

‘Oh, no one. Just … just Gareth. He has to take Robbie for a college interview, so he’ll be in the office late. I have to go.’ He reaches behind me for his jacket. Even though the storm has passed and left a shiny, new day, the pavements still glittering with rainwater as the sun creeps its way up a clear, blue sky.

‘Oh. OK.’ Maybe I was imagining the look that crossed Rav’s face as he stuffed his phone away.

‘I’ll see you later, I won’t be late.’ I don’t respond. He’s said that so many times recently and then failed to follow through on it that I don’t believe him for a second. I watch him hurry down the path, before turning back to get the baby. My eye catches my reflection in the mirror and I suppress a smile, still feeling that tickle of love for it, spotted glass and all.