And then she said: “We’re getting married in April.”

“I know.”

“There’s one room, Roland.”

“I’ll build onto the back by August.”

And she said, “No,” and her voice went, and she put both arms round herself in the way she does.

“I’m twenty-seven,” she said.

“I did not sign up for this.

I can’t raise your sister’s child because your mother decided not to.”