‘He’ll be back,’ I say as confidently as I can manage. ‘I’m sure he will. You know what men are like.’

‘You are a bit obsessed with this baby thing,’ Monica suggests.

I’m not sure I like how many times ‘obsessed’ is being linked with the word ‘baby’ in conversations about me.

‘I’m not obsessed,’ I insist. ‘I’m focussed.’ I think there’s a difference. ‘I’m going through an IVF programme. It’s costing us a lot of money. And it’s flipping time-consuming.’

Charlotte lays a hand on my arm, but she looks over my head at Monica, who grimaces in return. Charlotte pats. ‘It’s not surprising that your relationship is under strain.’

Monica sighs. ‘Perhaps Jake has had enough of it all.’

‘He wants a baby just as much as I do.’ I take a sip of my coffee and push it away. Perhaps this is why I’m not with child—it’s like drinking a cocktail of toxic chemicals. I’m sure the plastic cup’s melting. ‘Well, he did until this morning.’

Charlotte and Monica exchange another nervous glance. Monica gives a small nod and Charlotte takes a deep breath before she speaks. ‘You do talk about babies an awful lot, Lyssa.’

‘I work at a bloody baby magazine! My entire day is spent talking, writing and thinking about babies!’

‘Do you think that’s healthy, given your situation?’ Monica offers.

‘I can’t get knocked up,’ I cry. ‘I’m not psychotic.’ Although at the moment I do sound a bit borderline.

‘It must be very hard for Jake.’

I close my eyes, blocking out the view, blocking out my friends and blocking out the flashback of Jake closing the door with a decisive little click. ‘It’s hard for both of us.’

‘He did look a bit put out at the office party when you were talking about his sluggish sperm over the Christmas pudding.’ To avoid the Christmas rush our company decided to be innovative and hold the annual festive bash in July. Go figure, as our American friends would say.

Charlotte chews her lip. ‘He dragged you off to dance to Shakin’ Stevens’s “Merry Christmas Everyone”. That’s always a sign of desperation.’

‘If anyone knows about desperation it’s me,’ I point out.

‘Why don’t you give this whole baby business a rest?’ Monica again.