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I’m not sure how much Verity knows. Does she know I was Delilah’s teacher? Does she know the full history? The only person I can confirm with is Delilah. The woman I’ve just heaped scorn and damnation on, making her cry and rush out of the room.

“She wants to make amends. That’s why she started that.” Verity gestures at the item Delilah had slammed into my chest.

I focus on it and realise it’s a scrapbook. The feeling of shame runs through me again. I open the front cover.

“What the…?”

My voice trails off as I take in the first image that’s been stuck onto the page. It’s a scan photograph. I peer closely at the picture, looking at the details printed onto it. The date of the scan. Delilah’s surname. Measurements. The first picture of my daughter. The second image on the page is similar, but with different dates printed in the top corner, different measurements. The second picture of my daughter.

Since I found out about Maddie, whenever I saw a scan photograph, it made me think about what it would have been like to go to scans with Delilah. Would I have felt anxious about the journey we were going on? Would I have beamed when telling my parents they were going to be grandparents? I could never decide if I would have been grinning like I was the only idiot who ever managed to reproduce or an anxious ball of nerves, but I always imagined how the scan would have gone, clear as day. I would dream about sitting next to Delilah, holding her hand, kissing it during the scan, being awed at seeing our little baby on the screen, maybe leaning in to kiss her and tell her that I was so happy. I’m sure one of us would have cried and pretended we weren’t.

I force myself to focus on the book rather than being distracted by the thoughts of what I missed. Delilah’s cursive handwriting fills the rest of the page, but I can’t bring myself to read it yet. Instead, I turn the pages quickly to look at what else is in the book. There’s a photograph of Delilah in a hospital bed, holding baby Maddie. It looks like it was taken immediately after delivery. Delilah looks worn out, holding onto Maddie tightly, and Maddie looks like she’s angry at being ousted from her previously warm and comfortable home. Even from the small photograph, I can see Delilah has tears in her eyes. From a quick flick through the book, that’s the only photograph of her holding Maddie. I wonder how difficult it was for her to detach herself from her daughter, enough to let Verity be the one who held her most of the time, to let Verity take the lead.

I’ve spent the last two years wondering how she could keep me in the dark. I never thought about how hard it was for her. Occasionally I would feel sympathy for her, but mostly it was frustration, anger, and animosity.

“It’s a copy of Delilah’s scrapbook. She started making it when she was pregnant. She thought you should have your own,” Verity explains.

If I didn’t already feel like a dick, I do now. I close the book, rubbing my fingers over the front cover as I try to get a grip on my emotions. Crying in front of a stranger is not something I want to do. Neither is getting soft and forgiving because Delilah decided to give me something that should have been a basic level from the beginning.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “So, Delilah’s email gave me the highlights of the last two years, but why don’t you tell me what’s been going on. How are things between you and Maddie?”

I hear her gulp, and the distress is evident on her face. She takes a moment to compose herself.

“When she asked me if I was her biological mother, I didn’t know what to say. I was so shocked. I always knew the day was going to arrive, but I never thought it would be this soon. I thought she was going to be older, more mature, and definitely not sick when she was asking. It took a long time for her to even speak to me, or Delilah, afterwards. Even Felix. The only person she would talk to was Caleb.”

She looks in the direction of where Delilah had stalked off to. I assume Caleb is the man who went after her.

“How long have they been together?” I ask.

“Two years,” Verity replies. She looks distracted.

That feels like a slap in the face. I know I’ve spent the past two years in a never-ending cycle of having meaningless sex with anybody who gives me even a sideways glance, but nothing has ever been serious. Knowing Delilah’s been with somebody the entire time since I last saw her is agonising.

Before I can say anything further, there’s a noise from the hallway where Delilah, Felix, and Caleb are. I watch them discreetly. There are hushed words spoken, a flurry of sentences I can’t hear, and glances in my direction. I watch as Caleb runs a hand over Delilah’s bump, and I would be lying to myself if I didn’t admit how much it pisses me off.

I force my attention back to Verity.

“How long until your partner is home with Maddie? Is it safe for her to be at school? When did she go back? Does she prefer Madeline or Maddie?” I ask. I think about the day in Delilah’s flat, when she corrected me on her name.

“She still prefers Maddie. You may know Delilah used to call her Maddie-Moo, but don’t use that. Right now, she doesn’t accept it from anybody.”

“Not even Caleb?”

“No,” she replies.

I get a little smugness rush through me when I hear he isn’t a saint who can do no wrong, though I’m frustrated with my pettiness.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“The doctors said it’s fine for Maddie to be at school. She’s finished chemo and is in limbo until the decision is made on the bone marrow transplant. At some point, we may have to stop her going again, but for now, she enjoys a little bit of time with her friends.”

“As long as it’s safe,” I murmur.

“It’ll probably be another half hour before Simon is back with her. Plenty of time for you to have a conversation with Delilah and straighten things out,” Verity suggests.

It’s like some signal I wasn’t aware of. Verity rises and walks away, joining up with Delilah, Felix, and Caleb near the doorway. Then she, Caleb, and Felix leave the kitchen.

Delilah walks towards me. She looks apprehensive before she sits down next to me on the sofa. For a full two minutes, there is absolute silence between us.