‘Fine,’ he says. ‘I’m sleeping on a futon in the spare room. I think “futon” is Japanese for small uncomfortable mat on the floor.’ He tries a laugh, but it sounds very sickly.

‘Oh, poor you.’ I pout sympathetically.

‘I’m managing,’ he says stoically.

‘Does Simon still live there?’

‘Yes,’ Jake says. ‘He’s cool about it.’

‘So where’s Pip’s spare room? I thought it was a two-bedroom flat.’

‘Er…It is. The futon’s in the lounge.’

‘So you’re not sleeping in the spare room. You’re sleeping in the lounge?’

Jake bristles. ‘It’s only temporary.’

My patience with this pretence is running out. ‘Is there anything you want to tell me, Jake?’

The sulky five-year-old is suddenly awake. ‘Look, I’d better be going.’ He pushes himself up from the chair.

‘I know, Jake,’ I say, and I sound so reasonable that I can hardly believe it’s me speaking. ‘I know who she is. I know that you work with her. I know that you’re not at Pip’s. I know that you’re not sleeping in his lounge on a futon or anywhere else for that matter.’

Jake sits down again. ‘You’re bluffing.’

I feel overwhelming sadness for the lies that have crept into our life. ‘I think you’re the one who’s been bluffing, Jake.’

‘I’ll have that drink,’ my lying ex-boyfriend says.

Getting up to pour the wine gives me something to do. Something that stops me from wringing Jake’s neck. I hand him the glass and he swills down the wine. ‘I love her,’ he says.

‘You must do, to walk away from everything we’ve worked for.’

‘I couldn’t stand it anymore,’ Jake says. ‘The whole baby thing. I’d just had enough.’

‘Why didn’t you say?’

‘I did,’ Jake insists. ‘You never listened. You just kept banging on about my sluggish sperm.’

‘It’s important to me.’

‘More so than I am,’ Jake says quietly.

Some more of my calmness seeps away. ‘I can’t believe this. We’ve been going on for months having this torturous treatment and all the time you wanted to be with someone else—you were with someone else! And then you give me some line about wanting time away from me. Time away from me to be in someone else’s knickers!’

Jake says nothing, but his face has gone grey.

‘No wonder your sperm are sluggish,’ I spit. ‘They’re probably guilt-ridden. Are they sluggish with her?’

‘That was below the belt.’ And then he realised what he’d said. ‘I’ve had enough of this,’ he announces and suddenly he looks sad and weary too. ‘It’s over between us.’

‘I’d gathered that.’

‘I did everything I could, Lyssa,’ he continues defensively.

‘I’d beg to differ.’

‘It wasn’t intentional,’ Jake says. ‘I didn’t deliberately set out to have an affair. These things happen.’