It’s the photo Claire gave me on the day she told me we were having a baby, and until now I’ve always kept it in my wallet. We hadn’t been together for very long when Esther was conceived – less than a year. But I already knew that I loved Claire more than I’d ever expected to love anyone. Even though, most of the time, she didn’t believe it. She still thought the age difference was too big, or that I wasn’t serious about her. Nothing I could do or say would change that. That’s why I think she was so scared to tell me about Esther. It was a very warm day. I had been working on-site, out in the sun all day, and I should have gone back to my flat to get a shower before seeing Claire, but there was just something pulling me to her. I’d been thinking about her all day, about the way she’d looked when I woke up that morning, so pissed off that I’d woken her up at 6 a.m. and the sun was fully up, which meant she couldn’t get back to sleep. There was last night’s make-up around her eyes, her hair was tangled and she’d scowled at me when I went to kiss her goodbye.
