‘Are you okay, Kat?’

Lisa touches my arm, and I start. I hadn’t heard her come back up the stairs from the basement.

‘It’s really cool down there. I’d love a man cave!’

‘Let’s go and sit in my equivalent.’

I lead Lisa through the dining room and open the door to the conservatory. The difference in air temperature is startling. Bending, I flick on the fan heater, and it whirrs into life; the smell of hot dust is unpleasant.

‘I thought I’d spend all my time out here when we moved in, but in the summer it was roasting and now it’s freezing.’

‘It’s such a pretty view, though.’ Lisa curls up in one of the two armchairs in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass that overlooks the winter-drab garden, covering her lap with the thick faux fur throw slung over the back of the chair. I sit in the other chair and do the same, drawing my feet under me and tucking my throw around my knees.

We sit in silence watching the birds swing on the feeder, pecking at the fat balls I’d made myself from pine cones, lard, and seed. Next door’s cat slinks into the garden through a gap in the hedge and prowls over to the pond where he taps the thin layer of ice with his paw.

The fan heater clicks as it reaches temperature; the small space is soon heated, but it will quickly grow cold again. I sip my water. My head is throbbing.

‘I’m sorry I drank so much last night.’ I rub my temples.

‘It was a great party.’ Lisa turns to look at me. A wistful expression on her face. ‘You have a good life, Kat. I chatted to Clare for ages. She seems lovely. I’m glad she’s so close by.’

‘It is convenient. She works part-time so I often pop over for coffee when I want a break. Her daughter, Ada, is gorgeous. It’s such a shame her husband, Akhil, left.’

‘He’s Indian, isn’t he, she said? I wonder why Ada’s skin is so light?’

‘I think it happens sometimes with mixed-race children. The genes of one parent are stronger than the other. It’s so sad they split up. They don’t seem to speak; she never mentions him to me, really. We’re still forming our friendship, I suppose.’

‘We were good friends, weren’t we?’ There’s the smallest of nods as Lisa speaks as though trying to remind herself.

‘We still are,’ I say. ‘Not many people would do what you’re doing for me.’

A look of confusion flickers across her face for a second.

‘The surrogacy,’ I prompt.

‘Of course. But that’s not entirely for you. It’s for me too.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘You remember when you used to stay behind after school to help the younger kids with maths club and I always thought it was because your dad made you?’

I nod. ‘I enjoyed it. The feeling I might make a difference. Who knows what those kids have gone on to achieve.’

‘Exactly. This is my difference.’

‘A bit extreme though, isn’t it? It’s hardly the same thing.’

‘But it is. I’m doing something for you but I also feel a sense of pride. Who knows who is in here.’ Lisa places a hand over her belly. ‘Or what they will be but I know I will have played a small part in that, and it feels good to do something selfless.’

‘Do you think it’s a boy or girl?’ I ask the impossible question. ‘We’re calling him or her Beanie for now but I’ve been thinking of proper names.’

‘Eva?’

I grin. I’d always said at school I’d name my daughter after my favourite actress. ‘You’ve guessed it. I said Nick could pick a boy’s name but he likes Basil.’

‘Don’t mention the war!’ Lisa howls. Her mum had loved Fawlty Towers, and by the time we were 14 we could quote the scripts from memory.

‘I know! Can you believe Nick’s never seen it? His grandfather was called Basil, apparently. He used to love going to stay with him in Cornwall when he was young.’

‘That’s where Clare’s from, right?’

‘Yes. A different part, though. She wasn’t near the sea like Basil.’

‘Basil.’ Lisa shakes her head. ‘Perhaps I should have the final say on the name?’ Lisa is still laughing, but I’m suddenly serious.

‘Have you given much thought about how this will work?’

‘How do you mean?’ Lisa picks at a stray thread hanging from the throw and begins to twist it round and round her finger.

‘With your appointments? I want to be as involved as I can. In six weeks you can have your first scan.’

‘You’ve been reading up?’

‘I’ve been driving Nick mad. Do you know, by the time you reach the end of the first trimester the baby will be the size of a peach?’

‘You haven’t changed much. Still studying.’

‘I didn’t have a lot of choice, did I?’

‘You must go to university, Katherine. Don’t disappoint us.’ Lisa puts on a voice and looks down her nose like my dad used to. ‘I’d forgotten how hard you’d had it too.’

‘Do you ever see anyone? From school?’ I didn’t finish sixth form. I never went back after the accident.

‘Not really.’ Lisa shrugs.

‘Not even Aaron?’ Even saying his name makes me anxious.

‘No.’ Lisa shivers.

‘Let’s move somewhere warmer.’ I lean over and a whoosh of warm air blasts my fingers as I switch off the fan heater.

As we pass through the hallway, Nick is at the front door saying goodbye to Richard. Their voices are low but urgent. ‘You have to tell her,’ Richard says.

‘It’s too late now,’ Nick whispers, and I turn to Lisa and we share a look.

Richard catches sight of us. ‘We’ll talk properly later.’ He turns and stalks down the driveway.

‘Is everything okay?’ I ask Nick.

‘Fine,’ he mumbles.

‘What do you have to tell me? What’s it too late for?’

‘We’d planned to play golf but I slept in too late.’ His eyes are fixed on a point behind my head. There’s a stretched out beat while I’m aware of Lisa hovering awkwardly next to me.

‘Don’t you like Nick playing golf?’ Lisa asks as we finally head upstairs but I don’t answer. Reluctant to admit Nick rarely plays. I can’t shake the image of the lipstick on his shirt.

At the top of the stairs I pause in front of the nursery.

‘Ready?’ I ask.

‘For what?’

The door is stiff, it catches on the thick carpet, and as it slowly opens, I watch Lisa’s face but I can’t tell what she’s thinking. She steps into the room and spins 360 taking in the shelves crammed with soft toys, the bookshelf full of the old-fashioned Ladybird books. The castle and knights I’d bought for Dewei stand on the floor next to the doll’s house I’d ordered for Mai. I can’t face parting with either of them, and my mind races ahead wondering if after this Lisa would do it again. I might have a boy and a girl, kneeling together, playing with the wooden farmyard I couldn’t resist buying, with its handcrafted animals brightly painted, the smiling pink pig and the almost glow-in-the-dark orange chickens. Lisa stands still as she reads the ‘Together We Make a Family’ picture, the words shaped like a house.

‘You really want this, don’t you?’ Her voice is thick with emotion as she crosses to the window and gazes out at the garden. Nestled under the pergola is the rose bush we had planted for Dewei. In the spring, we will plant one for Mai too.

‘Yes. Even more than the adoptions, if that’s possible. This will be Nick’s baby. Part of him,’ I say. Outside the sky is clear and bright but snow still clings to the branches of the skeletal trees standing like soldiers in front of our fence. ‘If I had one wish, this would be it.’

Lisa turns to me, and I see the anguish in her eyes and I know at once I’ve said the wrong thing and, worse than that, I’m not sure if it is true. If I had one wish it would be for the events of that day never to have happened, and although I haven’t seen Lisa for such a long time, I think she would wish for the same thing too.

* * *

‘I hate to ask, Kat but I don’t suppose you can cover the taxi fare home?’

‘Of course.’ The horn beeps again outside and I hurry into the study, open the safe and pull out two hundred pounds. It’s a bank holiday so it should cost the same as last night, I reason. ‘Are you going to get your car looked at again?’

‘Yes. I think it’s the cold. I’ll get it checked out,’ Lisa says, holding out her hand. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve a bit extra, have you? I wouldn’t ask but once the sickness wears off mid-morning I’m ravenous. My food bill has doubled, and December’s payday seemed to disappear over Christmas. I can pay you back end of the month.’

‘Don’t be silly. If it wasn’t for us you wouldn’t be eating more and turning down overtime. You must say if you’re short. It’s important you keep up the relaxation classes.’ I push £20 notes into her hand.

At the taxi, we hug tightly.

‘Thanks for coming,’ I say. ‘It means a lot. Everything means such a lot.’

‘I know it does,’ Lisa says. ‘I know exactly how much this means to you.’