She had waited for Mario to come home and, at the end of a very long day, made the announcement in the most subdued way she could manage, with her back to him as she tackled the dirty dishes. She turned from the sink, with the plates stacked on the drainer, to tell her husband in no uncertain terms that she thought they had messed up, that the timing could not be worse, not with two small kids and her having recently started a new job at the school. But before she could utter another word, he was whooping with joy around the kitchen, skidding on the floor in his socks in a poor imitation of Elvis, dancing and beaming with joy.

‘Yes, we did it, Bess – three babies! This is brilliant! How are you feeling? How far are you? My clever girl. God, I love you so much. What do you think the kids will say? When can we tell people?’

As she tried to figure out which question to answer first, she saw all her options disappear down the sink with the suds from the washing up. How could she tell him of her doubts, her dismay, when he was already coming up with names . . . ?

‘I like Ryan for a boy and Misty for a girl.’

‘Misty? She’d sound like a porn star!’ She dug deep and found a smile.

‘Okay then, you name the girl and me the boy.’ He had grabbed her then around the waist and pulled her into him. ‘God, I love you! I can’t stop saying it.’

‘And I love you.’

And she did, but that didn’t stop her heart from jumping and her spirit from fluttering, trying to beat its wings and stay upright when all it wanted to do was slump a little and rest. Things were just starting to get easier for them as a family; Natalie and Jake at six and eight were a bit more independent, and financially, they were getting straight, now that she could work. It had made sense to take a job within school hours, fitting it around dropping them off and collecting them each day and in time to supervise homework and reading.