‘Are you better?’ he asked, scratching his calf. I could see that his legs were hairier and I suddenly felt in awe of myself: it’s quite a feat being a mother of a man.

‘Yes. And I’m going to be well again,’ I said, smiling at him, determined for it to be true. ‘How’s Evie?’

‘They’re outside in the car.’

‘Oh,’ I said, presuming he meant with Karl or Ness or both. I wondered how he felt about them but I didn’t ask. It was strange how differently I felt about it all now; it seemed so unimportant, so trivial in the greater scheme of things. In fact, if I felt anything I felt grateful to her for being there when I hadn’t been able to be.

‘How’s school?’ I asked.

He shrugged. ‘School’s school.’

‘I’m so sorry, my love.’

He shrugged again. He was distant.

‘You have every right to hate me,’ I said.

‘It’s nothing to do with you,’ he said, sounding just slightly irritated with me. God, of course not everything was about me; this is the trouble with mental illness – we become so introverted, spinning in our own vortices. I had been so busy gazing at my own navel and the reality is: life just goes on, doesn’t it? I knew better than to press him so said nothing. I glanced back at Annie, who was throwing Mental Sita a stick.

Josh picked up a blade of grass and stretched it between his thumbs – carefully, intently. Then he turned and looked at me. ‘Mum, Evie’s missed a period,’ he said.

I held his gaze but my eyes widened; I really hadn’t seen that coming at all. He carried on, ‘The Boots early test thing said she wasn’t pregnant but that was six days ago and she’s convinced she is.’

Oh. My. God. ‘She’s probably fine,’ I said. ‘Does Ness know?’

He shook his head. Six days. She should take another test right now. I put my hand on his back and soothed him like I used to do when he was little. ‘Don’t worry, darling. Nothing is insurmountable . . .’

He nodded and went back to his blade of grass. ‘Just to let you know . . . the thing is: if she is . . . we want to keep it.’

I stared at him. I was incredulous. When he looked at me I saw a steadfastness in his expression that was new to me; I saw a young man. A flurry of pink petals blew off the apple tree behind him, landing on us like confetti.