Lucy smiled, but tears glistened in her eyes. ‘We’ll put your coat on in a minute, sweetheart, and then you can play with the doggy in the garden.’ She turned to me. ‘There’s not a lot of room in here at the moment, I’m afraid. You can bring the pram in if the little one’s asleep, though.’

I manoeuvred the pram and squeezed into the little living room. There was barely standing room, the floor littered with toys and baby paraphernalia. I looked around, wondering if I should attempt to sit down. Lucy hurriedly shifted a pile of folded washing from the settee onto the coffee table, its surface sprinkled with crumbs and sticky with a puddle of spilled juice.

‘Here, take a pew and I’ll get the kettle on. I’ve drunk so much tea since this one was born – I’m making up for all those months when I couldn’t stand it!’

Elodie began to stir. She screwed up her face as if about to yell, so I hastily located her dummy in the changing bag and lifted her from the pram, sitting her on my lap and rocking gently. She was instantly soothed, her eyes taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with interest.

Lucy returned from letting Jobie and Alfie out into the back garden. The baby, still hanging from her limply like a rag doll, gave a throaty cough but did not wake. His face was slightly flushed.

‘Well, isn’t she a little darling. And you’re looking great. I feel such a bloody mess.’ Her eyes filled with tears again. ‘If I could just get one solid night’s sleep … It’s really getting me down.’

‘Isn’t Eddie helping out?’ I already knew the answer, but felt compelled to ask.

‘The only way he’s helping is by keeping out of my hair. It’s like having a third child when he’s at home.’

‘Is he working today?’ I wasn’t about to say I’d just seen him but wondered if Lucy had any inkling of what he was up to.

‘I don’t know where he is, and to be quite honest I don’t much care at the moment. We had a massive row last night. He’s been acting like a total dickhead.’ Her eyes dropped, a hand self-consciously smoothing her hair suddenly. ‘Georgie’s had an awful cold and he’s been really whingy. I asked Eddie to watch him while I went for a bath and he kicked off, saying he has to go out to work, so why should he have to do babysitting duties too? He stormed out and didn’t come home, the prick. His mum’s got wise to his strops and she won’t let him stay at hers any more, so I suppose he must have slept on a mate’s sofa.’