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It’s a bleak, wet Tuesday and Rob has called in sick. He never throws a sickie, and he despises those who do, such as fashion editor Ava who had the audacity last week to claim she’d ‘caught something’ the morning after she’d been to the lavish PR party she’d spent all afternoon getting ready for. Eddy doesn’t seem to mind skivers. Perhaps that’s all part of the new ‘dynamic’ attitude: being so ‘out there’ that sometimes you can’t be arsed to go to work.

This morning, though, Rob couldn’t face the office so he called in, feigning a migraine. Which was true, sort of. The terrible reality – that Nadine says she’s having his baby – is creating a terrible tension around his frontal lobe, as if his brain is in danger of bursting out of his skull. And now, hell, Kerry is phoning his mobile.

‘Hi,’ he croaks, digging a fingernail into the well-worn corduroy sofa.

‘Hi, hon, sorry to call you at work, hoped you’d be on your lunch break—’

‘Is everything okay?’ It’s his knee-jerk reaction. Any time Kerry calls during the day, he fears that one of his children is being stitched back together at A&E.

‘Yes, it’s fine, it’s just … I know this sounds stupid, but I’ve just been out for a walk to clear my head. Been working on those Cuckoo Clock songs all morning …’

Nadine’s having my baby rings loud and clear between his ears.

‘… Anyway,’ Kerry continues, ‘I spotted this ad on the noticeboard at the newsagent’s and … God, you’re going to think I’ve gone stark raving mad …’

A baby. A real live baby. So what’s it to be – suicide by downing the entire contents of the bathroom cabinet? As far as he can recall there’s only some ancient Sudocrem and a mangled tube of Anusol in there …

‘I just think it might be good for us,’ Kerry continues, sounding slightly breathless as if she’s walking at a brisk pace. ‘I know we’re okay here but … I don’t know … it feels like there’s something missing, Rob. Well, you, obviously …’ She chuckles. ‘God, we can’t wait till you’re here, you know. Only a couple of weeks to go now …’

‘Yeah,’ he says dully.

‘Why don’t you just move down properly next weekend? You could hire a van, couldn’t you, and get Simon to help? I mean, it’s not as if there’s anything to stay for now, and the kids miss you so much …’

‘I miss them too,’ he says, feeling as if he might cry.

‘Anyway,’ Kerry continues, ‘that’s not what I called about. I just wanted to tell you …’

Rob is incapable of tuning in to what she’s saying. He is replaying what Nadine told him in Jack’s last night: ‘Maybe I should have been honest and told you we’d had sex. But you’re a lovely, decent guy and I knew you’d feel terrible about Kerry … I just didn’t want to put you through that stress …’

‘So what d’you think?’ Kerry asks.

He grips the phone. ‘About what?’

‘Rob, have you been listening to me at all?’

He’s sweating now, his entire head tensing as if being slowly crushed by some kind of enormous clamp. ‘Sorry, Kerry, just got a few things on my mind …’

She lets out an exasperated sigh. ‘That’s okay, you’re at the office, you should have said instead of letting me prattle on. All I was saying was—’

‘I’m not at work actually. I’m at home, not feeling very well …’

‘Oh, what’s wrong?’ Her sympathetic tone makes his insides twist with shame.

‘Just … a migraine.’

‘Aw, never had one of those before, have you?’ No, and I’ve never had a twenty-year-old who I barely know suddenly announcing she’s having my child …

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Taken anything for it?’

‘Er, just paracetamol.’

‘You could probably do with something stronger.’ Yes, too bloody right, like something to render me unconscious for a very long time, perhaps until the blessed release of death … ‘Anyway,’ she adds perkily, ‘all I was saying is, I’ve just seen an ad for a dog that some guy wants to rehome – family-friendly, lovely with people and other dogs, sounds perfect. There’s a photo of him and he looks adorable – a big, shaggy, cuddly thing. And I thought, seeing as I’m based at home now, and considering the kids are struggling to make friends …’ She pauses. ‘I think,’ she adds softly, ‘they deserve it.’

‘I, er, dunno,’ Rob mutters.

‘You mean you don’t think it’s a good idea?’

He tries to clear his parched throat. ‘I, um, don’t see the point …’

‘Of course there’s a point! He’d be theirs, they could learn how to look after him. Animals are good for children, everyone knows that …’

‘No, I know there’s a point to dogs, if you’re blind or in the police force or need drugs sniffing out but—’

Kerry bursts out laughing. ‘You’re mad, Rob. But yes, dogs can be useful, which just shows how intelligent and easily trainable they are.’

‘Kerry, I …’

‘Think how excited they’d be!’ she cuts in. ‘Oh, I know that picking up poo with the little black bag isn’t hugely appealing but I’m sure we’d get used to it. It’s probably like baby poo. You know how changing other people’s babies’ nappies is completely disgusting?’ God, can’t she tell there’s something terribly wrong here? How can she go on and on like this as if everything’s normal? ‘ … But your own – well, that’s different. When it’s come out of someone you love, it sort of loses its disgustingness, doesn’t it? Isn’t that weird, Rob, don’t you think?’

Not half as weird as me allegedly making a girl pregnant and having absolutely no recollection of doing it …

‘Not that I’m saying it’ll be like having another baby,’ Kerry laughs, clearly oblivious to his pain. ‘I suspect it’ll be a tinier bit easier than that. Like, there’s no weaning or night waking, hopefully, or strangers marching up to you and telling you he should have a hat on or a warmer jacket …’

Stop it, stop it, stop it. Please stop talking about babies …

‘D’you remember all that?’ Kerry asks fondly. ‘You’d come home from work and I’d be ranting on about some woman in the park who’d told me to put brandy in Mia’s bottle.’

‘Er, yeah …’

‘And you were really helpful,’ she sniggers. ‘You said, just tell them to fuck off.’

‘Er, Kerry, I really need to talk—’

‘So, listen, shall I phone that guy from the ad?’

‘Which ad?’

‘The dog one! Oh, go on, let’s do it …’ She pauses, and he can tell she’s smiling. There are faint street noises in the background and he pictures her green eyes shining, her dark hair blowing messily in the breeze. Tears spill onto his cheeks and he quickly wipes them away. ‘If we do,’ Kerry adds, ‘let’s make it a surprise and not say anything until the dog’s actually here. You won’t tell them, will you?’

‘No …’

‘God, I’m so excited! Oh, Rob … this just feels right, you know? Everything feels right. I’ve had a few enquiries from my ad, did I tell you? I just need to spruce up the music room, then I can start booking some pupils in.’

‘Er, that’s great.’

‘Well, it all feels positive anyway.’ She pauses for breath. ‘It’s still lonely here without you but soon we’ll all be back together, a proper family …’ She tails off, but this time Rob can’t respond. ‘Sorry, sweetheart,’ she adds. ‘I’m ranting on and you’re stuck at home with a horrible migraine. I’ll shut up now and let you get some rest …’

‘Okay,’ he says dully.

‘And Rob, I love you, you know that, don’t you?’

He opens his mouth, but more tears are falling and all he can do is make a strange, puppy-like yelp.

‘Rob? Are you okay?’

He clears his throat, his face now utterly wet as he says, ‘Kerry, I’m so sorry. There’s something you have to know.’