SATURDAY, JULY 20, 2013
MORNING
Evie wakes just before six. I get out of bed, slip intothe nursery and pick her up. I feed her and takeher back to bed with me.
When I wake again, Tom’s not at my side, but Ican hear his footfalls on the stairs. He’s singing, lowand tuneless, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthdayto you?.?.?.” I hadn’t even thought about it earlier, I’dcompletely forgotten; I didn’t think of anything butfetching my little girl and getting back to bed. NowI’m giggling¹ before I’m even properly awake. I openmy eyes and Evie’s smiling, too, and when I look up,Tom’s standing² at the foot of the bed, holding a tray.
He’s wearing my Orla Kiely apron³ and nothing else.
“Breakfast in bed, birthday girl,” he says. He placesthe tray at the end of the bed and scoots round tokiss me.
I open my presents. I have a pretty silver braceletwith onyx inlay from Evie, and a black silk teddy andmatching knickers from Tom, and I can’t stopsmiling. He climbs back into bed and we lie with Eviebetween us. She has her fingers curled tightly aroundhis forefinger⁴ and I have hold of her perfect pinkfoot, and I feel as though fireworks are going off inmy chest. It’s impossible, this much love.
A while later, when Evie gets bored of lying there, Iget her up and we go downstairs and leave Tom tosnooze. He deserves it. I potter round, tidying up abit. I drink my coffee outside on the patio⁵, watchingthe half-empty trains rattle⁶ past, and think aboutlunch. It’s hot—too hot for a roast, but I’ll do oneanyway, because Tom loves roast beef, and we canhave ice cream afterwards to cool us down. I justneed to pop out to get that Merlot he likes, so I getEvie ready, strap⁷ her in the buggy and we strolldown to the shops.
Everyone told me I was insane to agree to move into Tom’s house. But then everyone thought I wasinsane to get involved with a married man, let alonea married man whose wife was highly

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