‘Let’s walk up the towpath by the canal. Just see how far you can go comfortably – I don’t want you to overdo it.’

‘I don’t think there’s much danger of that – I doubt I’ve got the energy to get further than the end of the lane,’ I remarked, grimacing as I pulled on my coat and gloves.

‘Don’t be defeatist – you might be able to do more than you think. But go at your own pace – we’ll only walk as far as you’re happy with.’

We stepped out, Jobie trotting proudly alongside the pram.

Elodie’s cheeks were flushed with the cold, and anxiously I kept stopping to check she was warm enough.

‘Hey, how are you? Ooh – let me see the new arrival.’

I looked up to see Lucy crossing the road towards us. She was carrying her baby in a sling across her chest. A despondent-looking Alfie clutched her hand, dragging his heels at her side. She peered down into the pram, cooing at Elodie. Leaning forward, she revealed a creamy trail of dried baby sick from her shoulder down the front of her navy-blue coat. I felt a pang of guilt, not having seen her for weeks. After she had declined my request to call round, I had dropped her the odd text to see how things were going, but her replies had been brief and, I had thought, a little dismissive. If I’m honest, I’d felt slightly annoyed. It occurred to me now that she might have been so up to her eyes in things after the baby’s arrival that she simply didn’t have the energy or the inclination to do much else. Maybe I should have just swallowed my pride and gone round unannounced.

‘We’re good, thank you. A bit knackered as you’d imagine, but this one’s only nine days old so things could be worse! Haven’t really been out much yet and thought we’d get a walk in while it’s dry. I don’t think you two have met, have you? Lucy, this is Jack.’

Jack smiled and extended a hand. Lucy shook it diffidently.

‘Pleased to meet you, Jack.’

‘You too.’

There was an uncomfortable pause, as if no one knew who was supposed to speak first.

‘How are you?’ I ventured.

Lucy looked exhausted, her eyes circled with bruise-like mauve rings, her face pale and drawn. Aside from shedding the baby weight, she had clearly lost more besides, and looked painfully thin.

‘Georgie’s teething at the moment – he’s started early, just like his big brother did – so I’m not getting a lot of sleep. Alfie’s a bit j-e-a-l-o-u-s –’ she spelled out the word, looking pointedly at the glum-faced little boy ‘– so I’m trying to keep in his good books by taking him to get sweeties.’

‘Where’s Eddie this morning?’