‘It’s already like living with Gillian McKeith in our house.’ Jenny hit him with the leaflet as the others laughed.

‘Well, we’ve covered nearly everything now.’ Sally was back at the front, with a TV screen on wheels. ‘Get yourselves a drink and a biscuit and then we’ll finish up by watching a film of a real birth.’

Time was running out if Jenny wanted to check out Antonia and Naomi. But Naomi had already begun an intense discussion with Antenatal Sally. Jenny overheard the words ‘perineum’ and ‘olive oil’ and shuddered, then followed Antonia out to the kitchen.

‘I’m not looking forward to this at all.’

Although Antonia had reached the kitchen first, Jenny somehow seemed to be the one filling the kettle. Not for the first time that day, she longed fervently for caffeine. Or vodka.

Antonia wrinkled her nose. ‘Me, neither, darling. It all sounds terribly messy. I’m assuming it’s too late for us to back out?’

‘Of the video? Or the actual birth?’ Jenny was only half joking. Maybe her first instinct to avoid too much birth information had been a good one. Antenatal Sally was doing her best to be reassuring, but there was no getting away from the fact that the baby inside Jenny needed to make it to the outside. Perhaps sooner than she was ready for.

‘I’m sure Naomi will know it all already. She’s clearly a cut above the rest of us in the preparation department.’ Antonia leaned back against the counter, her arms across the top of her bump. ‘She offered to lend me some books about “hypnobirthing” or something. Not really me, sweetie.’

Jenny found the plastic container with the teabags. ‘That’s funny. That’s exactly what Gail said about you last week – that you were a cut ab— that you knew a lot.’

‘Oh, did she indeed? That’s very interesting.’ Antonia smiled to herself and tidied the cups on the worktop so that all of their handles pointed in the same direction. ‘She’s a curious character, don’t you think? I’m surprised she has time to give birth with such a tight work schedule. Do you work?’

‘I write for a magazine.’ Jenny started to make tea for herself and Dan. She didn’t want to talk about her job in too much detail. As soon as you told people you were a writer, they either clammed up completely or told you their life story. ‘Do you want two cups? What’s Geoff drinking?’

‘Don’t bother for him, darling. He can drink the insipid squash. We only just made it here on time today because he was out so late last night entertaining clients. Mind you, at least he’s here. Some people don’t seem to be able to get their baby daddy here at all.’

Ouch. Antonia wasn’t afraid to go straight for the jugular. This was useful. A bit of tension made for good writing. Jenny just needed to direct it.