Seeing Richard is the last thing I want to do but there’s some charity paperwork that needs signing. It’s on my way to Farncaster, and I’ve time before the scan. Normally I avoid seeing Richard on my own. The conversation is always strained and awkward.

‘Can I leave this with you?’ I ask the receptionist but the phone rings and, as she picks up the receiver, she gestures at me to go upstairs.

I tap on the door and push it open. Richard’s office is stifling, as always. Aftershave thick in the air.

‘Morning.’ I keep my voice bright and breezy, hoping he doesn’t realise I’m holding the envelope to my chest as though it’s a shield.

‘Kat.’ Something flashes across his face, and I can’t tell if it’s irritation or panic as he stuffs papers into his drawer before slamming it shut. I wonder if they are to do with Nick’s business and I feel a shift of discomfort that I don’t fully know what’s going on, how bad it is, and although I had intended to leave, I pull out a chair and sit.

‘This is an unexpected pleasure.’ Although, by the tone in his voice, Richard doesn’t think it’s a pleasure any more than I do.

‘I’ve brought the proposal for the sponsorship. Could you look it over, please?’

‘Now? I’m very busy.’ There’s a coldness to his voice that unnerves me and I suppress the urge to bite it was his idea to form the charity. For his grandma. At the very least, he could take more of an interest; he always acts as though it’s such a chore, or perhaps it is only me he finds tiresome.

‘I can leave it with you.’

‘I wanted to talk to you anyway. About Lisa.’ He steeples his fingers, his expression unreadable.

‘I’m off to meet her. It’s the scan today.’

‘You’ve been authorising extra payments, Nick says? We had an agreement—’

‘Nick and I are more than happy with our arrangements,’ I say a little too forcefully, although I’m not too sure whether Nick is happy. A rush of heat sweeps over me. I’d tried to ask Nick whether I should be spending less with the trouble the business is in, and he’d told me not to be silly and my anger had flared that he wasn’t treating me like an equal.

‘I run the charity almost single-handed. I’m hardly some helpless female,’ I had snapped.

‘Funny. That’s how you come across when you think you’ve seen someone skulking around outside and want protecting,’ he had bit back, and although we had both quickly calmed down and apologised, the gap between us had widened that little bit more.

We never used to argue. We should be enjoying our last few weeks as a family of two, and I vow to make more of an effort.

‘Perhaps it’s time I drew a salary from the charity if it’s that bad?’ I ask Richard but I’m tentative. Reluctant to take the money I’ve worked so hard to raise.

Richard leans back in his chair and holds my gaze for so long I am reminded of the staring competitions we used to have: me, Lisa, and Jake. I’d always look away first. As I do now. Averting my eyes to the window and watching the sun bouncing off the rooftops outside.

‘Is it you?’ I ask as the silence becomes insufferable. ‘Who’s supposed to apply for planning permission for listed buildings?’

‘Of course.’

‘And yet you didn’t?’

‘Didn’t I?’

‘The stately home…’ I root around in my memory. Where did Nick say it was? ‘Is it in a lot of trouble? The business?’

‘You can always find trouble, Kat. If you go looking for it.’

I wait for him to elaborate. He doesn’t. I sigh. I know I am not going to get anything like a straight answer. ‘I’ve got to go. Are we seeing you this weekend?’

‘Not sure. I’ll speak to Nick about it later.’

I nod. There’s nothing more to say. I thought over the years Richard would soften towards me but, if anything, his disdain has grown. Nick can’t see it; he says it’s just the way Richard is; yet, if he cares so much about Nick, he should be more supportive about the surrogacy, shouldn’t he? It feels like a constant tug of war for Nick’s attention, and increasingly, I am wondering how much longer I can keep pulling. Something’s got to give, I just hope it isn’t me.

The hospital car park is full of vehicles circling like sharks, and it takes twenty-five minutes to claim a space. I clatter all my change into the parking machine and display the white ticket that cost almost as much as a pub meal on my dashboard.

I am late. I run towards the main entrance, almost turning my ankle as I swerve past a wheelchair, and am relieved to see Lisa is still there, shifting her weight from foot to foot, checking her watch.

‘Sorry,’ I pant. ‘Couldn’t park.’

‘You needn’t have rushed.’ Lisa pulls a face. ‘I’ve just been to check in and the sonographer is off sick today.’

‘What? No!’

‘Sorry. You’ve had the drive for nothing.’

‘Let’s go and talk to them. Explain I’ve come a long way. There must be someone else?’

‘There isn’t – it’s a small department.’

‘Have they offered you another appointment?’

‘I’ve got to ring next week. See if he’s back.’

My disappointment must show because Lisa squeezes my arm. ‘If it’s a long-term sickness they’ll get cover or refer me to another hospital. They promised we won’t have to wait too long: a couple of weeks at the very most.’

‘Do you think you could call your midwife and ask if I can hear the heartbeat today?’ My voice is small. Lisa’s midwife sounds lovely, always setting her mind at rest. When Lisa was worried about stretch marks – she’s so self-conscious when she speaks about them – her midwife gave her some bio oil to try. ‘It’s one of the most common things for expectant mums to worry about. The size of their bump,’ she had told Lisa. ‘Each woman grows and shows at her own rate. Stretch marks will fade.’ She sounds nurturing and it brings me comfort to know she is taking care of Lisa.

‘She’s based at my doctors and she gets really booked up. I think you can buy the monitors to listen yourself.’

‘Really?’

‘You wouldn’t believe half the stuff you can buy on eBay! I’ll ask my midwife how effective they are. Let’s go to the canteen. Have a mug of hot chocolate.’

As though the cream and sugar could make up for the loss I feel. I press my palm to Lisa’s bump. ‘I guess I’ll see you another day?’ I say but there is no wriggle to tell me the baby has heard, and even if he had, for I am thinking of him as a boy now, he wouldn’t know I am his mum. Lisa’s is the voice he hears every day. I am nothing but a stranger. Self-pity springs tears to my eyes, and Lisa gently draws my hand away from her belly.

‘Come on.’ She leads me into the hospital. Back into the place I was admitted after the accident. I grip her hand tightly as we weave through corridors, and it is only as we join the queue for drinks I release my grip, and she shakes her fingers as though they hurt as much as my heart.

* * *

‘So this is where you work?’ I ease the plastic lid off the cardboard cup and am hit with a cloud of chocolatey smelling steam.

‘Yes. Well not in the canteen, obviously.’

‘How can you bear it?’ I am not talking about the constant noise, the rattle of trollies, the stench of neglect, but Lisa instinctively knows.

‘I think of that night all the time. Did you see those black plastic chairs in A&E? That’s where we sat. I felt sick as the nurse came over but I thought she must have good news. I thought if it was bad we’d be taken to a little room, like they do on TV, with shiny leaved pot plants and comfortable sofas, but it wasn’t like that. When she told us Jake had died, we left the hospital, and I hoped I’d never come back. Even the smell of the disinfectant made my stomach churn for years. But not coming back…’ She gives a small, sad shake of her head. ‘It doesn’t change what happened, and it’s a good place to work. I’m helping people.’

I nod. As I raise my head to sip my drink I see someone outside the door, nose pressed against the glass like a dog begging to come inside.

‘Is that—’ I point. ‘Aaron?’

Lisa turns her head but a family are crowding in, children whining for sweets, and the moment has passed.

‘I can’t believe I’ve seen him again.’ I wrap my arms around myself.

‘Again?’ Lisa’s brows knit together.

‘I saw him in town the last time I came.’

‘Did he say anything?’ Her voice is shrill.

‘No.’ Aaron didn’t have to speak. I could feel his hate, toxic and thick, and I had wished I could have hated him too but the emotion I felt, that I feel when I think of him, is always one of fear. ‘Do you think that’s him?’ I crane my neck.

‘Could be: he works here,’ Lisa says.

‘How can anyone employ him after?…’ I’m not sure that I believe everyone deserves a second chance.

‘I know. Let me use the loo and we’ll get out of here.’ Lisa hefts herself to her feet, and I watch her waddle towards the toilet in the corner, one hand cradling her bump.

My fluttering anxiety morphs into a fury that propels me to my feet. I don’t want Aaron within spitting distance of Lisa, as though he might contaminate my baby somehow. I slip out into the corridor, and he’s there. Studying the noticeboard as though it is the most interesting thing on the planet.

‘I thought it was you,’ I say quietly clenching my fists at my sides. ‘What are you doing here?’

He spins around and he raises his hand. I flinch, but he scratches his head instead as he studies me in that way of his. I can’t help noticing his wedding ring. Who in their right mind would marry him? Someone who doesn’t know what he did.

Despite my earlier bravado, I find myself shaking. He takes a step forward. I take a step back. He steps forward again, and my heart hammers in my chest as the distance between us closes. I can smell tobacco on his breath. See the anger in his eyes. I back up until I am wedged in a corner, with nowhere to hide.