‘You definitely didn’t tell her that Rosie was Australian?’

‘I said that she didn’t have any family here. She—you—can be from any location except New York.’

‘All right. Take me through this depression test.’

‘She may use some other. I’ve researched several. The common factor appears to be that risk of depression is detected via the respondent feeling unhappy and anxious.’

‘Isn’t psychology amazing? I wonder what these people get paid for sometimes.’

‘Do you think we’ll be able to deceive her?’

‘Don’t worry, Don. The trick is only to lie about the things you have to lie about. You be you, I’ll be me, except for the name. I’m happy. And completely normal.’

I almost failed to recognise Sonia in the enormous foyer of the Bellevue Hospital. I had only ever seen her in her work costume and, on social occasions, in jeans. She was wearing a large patterned skirt and a white frilled shirt, creating an overall impression of a folk dancer. She greeted me effusively.

‘Ciao, Don. It’s a beautiful day, no?’

‘You’re sounding strange. Like a comedian pretending to be Italian.’

‘I am Italian. I’m only living here one year. I’ve got no family here, like you say to the lady. But I’m very happy! Because of the bambino!’ She rotated on the spot, and the centrifugal force caused her skirt to extend. She laughed.

Sonia’s grandparents on her father’s side were Italian, but she did not speak Italian. If Lydia brought in an interpreter, we would be in trouble. I recommended Sonia keep the use of the accent subtle. But it was a brilliant idea to create a foreign Rosie without imitating an Australian accent, which would appear inauthentic next to mine.

‘I’m sorry to take you away from your studies,’ said Lydia after indicating that we should sit down. ‘You must be very busy.’

‘I’m very busy all the time,’ said Sonia. She looked at her watch. I was impressed by the acting.

‘How long have you been in the States?’

‘Since the start of the medical course. I come here for study.’

‘And before that, what were you doing?’

‘Working in an IVF facility in Milano. It is from this that I become interested in medicine.’

‘How did you and Don meet?’

Disaster! Sonia looked at me. I looked at Sonia. If one of us had to invent a story, it was best that it be Sonia.

‘At Columbia. Don is my teacher. Everything is happening rapido.’

‘When are you due?’

‘December.’ This was the correct answer for Sonia.

‘Did you plan to get pregnant so quickly?’

‘When you work in IVF, you learn how precious it is to have a baby. I think I’m so lucky.’ Sonia had forgotten the accent. But she sounded highly credible.

‘And you’re planning to defer your studies when you have the baby?’

This was a tricky question. Sonia—the real Sonia—planned to take a year off work, which was causing Dave stress, due to the impact on income. If Sonia answered as herself rather than as Rosie, I would be forced to act as Dave for consistency and would doubtless fail to be convincing. It was better that Sonia gave the answer that Rosie would give. Except that she did not know it. I answered for her.

‘Rosie intends to continue her studies uninterrupted.’

‘No break?’

‘A minimum of a week. Possibly more.’

Lydia looked at Sonia. ‘A week? You’re only taking a week off to have a baby?’

Lydia’s obvious surprise and disapproval was consistent with David Borenstein’s advice. Sonia’s surprise was consistent with her not being Rosie and her own plans to take indefinite leave. We were all in agreement—except Rosie who was not in the room. I tried to present her position.

‘The birth of a baby is no more disruptive than a minor upper respiratory tract infection.’

‘You think having a baby is like having a cold?’

‘Without the disease aspect.’ Rosie’s analogy had been faulty in that respect. ‘More equivalent to taking a week’s leave to attend the baseball play-offs.’ Sonia gave me a strange look; my baseball reference had doubtless been prompted by subconscious thoughts of Dave.

Lydia changed the topic. ‘So, with Rosie studying full-time, you’re the sole breadwinner.’

Rosie would hate me answering ‘yes’ to this question. My answer was true until recently. ‘Incorrect. She works in a bar in the evenings.’

‘I guess she’ll be giving that up at some point.’

‘Absolutely not. She considers it critical to contribute to the finances.’ As Sonia had said, most of the time it was possible to tell the truth.

‘And what do you see as your role?’

‘In what respect?’

‘I’m thinking, with Rosie studying full-time and working part-time, you might need to help with the baby.’

‘We’ve discussed it. Rosie requires zero assistance.’

Lydia turned to Sonia. ‘Are you comfortable with all that? Is that what you think?’

I had temporarily forgotten that Sonia was a virtual Rosie, and had been speaking of Rosie as a person external to our conversation. I hoped Lydia had not noticed. But the answer was a simple ‘Yes’. Lydia would have a consistent story, consistent with mine, consistent with Rosie having exactly what she required for happiness, consistent with reality.