Michael accompanies Charlotte, pale-faced, red-eyed, but composed, into the wet room. He slips the towelling robe from her shoulders, holding her hand in support as she lowers herself into warm bubbles. Beth, already soaking herself, shuffles closer along the step, giving Charlotte’s hand a squeeze.
Richard slides along to sit the other side of her. “Feeling a bit better now?”
Nodding, she forces a smile. “A bit.”
“Here…” I pass a glass of wine to Richard, then step down into steaming, perfumed water. Michael joins me.
Richard sets the glass in Charlotte’s free hand then, slipping his hand around her shoulder, kisses her forehead. “It will be fine. You will be fine. You’ll see. You and Michael will try again, and the next time, you’ll have a fine, bouncing brother or sister for Cara.
