Jake looks unconvinced, whereas I remain resolute. Only astronauts and Sigourney Weaver need space to function in. The rest of mankind have to operate in confined quarters—offices, homes, relationships—that’s what it’s all about. No man is an island. And no man whose sperm has been called ‘sluggish’ has a right to lay all this at my feet.

‘I need time to myself,’ he continues.

This is a man who every weekend plays some sort of sport—football and cricket in the appropriate seasons, golf and squash when he can fit them in. This is a man who I think has plenty of time to himself, and before we used to argue about our lack of babies, we used to argue about how much time he had to himself. I wonder why all this is going round in my head, but none of it is coming out of my mouth.

Jake takes a deep breath. He puts my hand down. Right into some milk I hadn’t realised I’d spilled on the kitchen table. ‘I think we should have a trial separation,’ he says. ‘For a few days. A few weeks.’

‘Have you met someone else?’

‘No.’ He looks at me as if I’m insane to even entertain the thought. ‘This isn’t about anyone else. It’s about me—and you. And your obsession.’

‘Wanting a baby is not an obsession. It’s a…’

Jake waits.

‘…a preoccupation.’ That sometimes borders on slightly obsessive. Very slightly. ‘I just want a baby. Is that too much to ask?’

Jake stands up. Patently, it is. ‘I’ve packed a few things. I’m going to Pip’s place for a couple of days. I need to get my head round this. I need to decide what I want.’

‘And what I want doesn’t come into it anymore?’

Jake looks very tired of me. ‘Suppose we can never have a baby, Lyssa? What then? How long would it be until you stopped hoping that one day modern science will no longer be baffled by our inability to conceive?’

‘I don’t know.’ I shrug lightly. ‘Three weeks? Four?’ This fails to add levity to our desperate situation.

‘I’ll phone you tonight,’ Jake says. ‘To make sure you’re all right.’

I won’t be all right, I want to say. I’m not all right now. I may never be all right again. ‘You can’t just go.’

‘I’ll phone you.’