Her linen dress barely creased. ‘Geoff would hate me to have a job whilst the baby is small. What does your partner think about you going back so soon?’

Before Gail could reply, Antenatal Sally reappeared to see how they were doing.

Jenny had a sudden need to stretch her legs, which took her conveniently close enough to the group of dads to eavesdrop. They had a selection of baby catalogues and had had to make two lists: one for necessities, one for luxuries.

She saw Dan flicking aimlessly through a Mothercare catalogue. ‘It’s pretty pointless asking us to make these lists. I don’t know about your wives, but mine has definitely been making all the decisions about stuff.’

Bloody cheek. He had chosen which cot they’d bought. She had merely suggested that the white one would coordinate with more bedding options.

Geoff agreed. ‘And there’s so much of it.’ He turned the pages of a John Lewis baby book. ‘A baby bath. What’s the point when you have a perfectly good bath already? A changing table? As if Antonia is going to bother trooping upstairs every time it needs a new nappy.’ He paused and looked closer at the page. ‘What the hell is a top and tail set?’

David nodded. ‘It all has to match too, according to Ruth.’

‘Naomi and I have only got a small flat,’ said John. ‘I have no idea how we’re going to fit all these things into it.’

‘Well, you don’t need a baby bath.’ Geoff tapped the sheet of paper in front of them. ‘Put that in the luxury list.’

David put his catalogue down and lowered his voice. ‘Have you been pram shopping yet?’ There was a unanimous groan. ‘It would have been easier to buy a new car.’

‘And cheaper,’ said John. ‘I’m trying to persuade Naomi to get a second-hand one.’

The other three laughed. Dan clapped him on the back. ‘I admire your gumption, son. Good luck with that.’

Geoff went back to his magazine. ‘What the hell is that?’ he asked, pointing at a breast pump.

David peered over his shoulder. ‘That, my friend, will ensure that you don’t want to have sex with your wife for quite some time.’

Jenny crept back to the mums.

When they joined up again, Sally handed out some more leaflets which she thought they might find useful. One of them was a series of eight different photographs of baby poo. The bacon sandwich Jenny had eaten suddenly seemed like less of a good idea. Number eight was bright yellow. Like psychedelic custard.

John was amused. ‘Is this some kind of bingo game? Like those books your parents used to give you when you were on a long car journey and you had to tick the picture when you saw a cow or a letter box?’

‘Not quite.’ Sally smiled. ‘Just wait, you will be amazed at how interested you will be in your baby’s poo for the first few months of its life. You can tell a lot by the condition of a baby’s poo.’

‘You’ll be in your element, Jen.’ Dan nudged her.