‘What’s this hypnobirthing of Naomi’s?

‘Goodness only knows. She kept talking about “visualising the pain” or some such hippy nonsense.’ Antonia browsed the assortment of tea bags with a well-manicured finger. Nothing met with her approval. ‘I’m not on board with all that “positive thinking” business. The only thing I'm positive about is that I want as much pain relief as I can persuade them to pump into me.’

Naomi and John chose that moment to appear in the doorway. Jenny clenched her toes: had they overheard Antonia’s ‘hippy’ comment?

Antonia wasn’t fazed. ‘I wouldn’t get too excited about the drinks menu,’ she told them. ‘Although there might be a couple of herbal sachets kicking around at the bottom which you’d like.’

Naomi didn't seem to be aware that she was being mocked. She couldn’t have heard Antonia talking about her. ‘Oh, thanks.’ She let go of John’s hand so that he could refill the kettle. ‘This is wonderful, isn’t it?’

‘I’m glad someone’s enjoying it. I need the loo, so I’ll leave you to it.’ Antonia winked at Jenny as she left.

Jenny took a big gulp of her tea. ‘Mmmm, yes, it’s really interesting.’

‘John and I are so excited about it all,’ Naomi gushed. ‘The more we can find out, the better. I’d love to have done a longer course, but we couldn’t really afford it. I’m a yoga instructor and am self-employed, so we’re going to have to be a bit careful with money for the next few months till I can pick up my clients again.’

Of course she was a yoga instructor. And quite free with her personal information too, which might be useful. ‘I see.’

‘I can’t wait to see the birth film. Although I have watched quite a few births online already.’ Naomi’s eyes shone.

Jenny gagged on her Rich Tea biscuit. ‘Have you? Is it as bad as I’m expecting?’

‘No, it’s beautiful, isn’t it, John?’ She smiled up at him. John looked like a man who knew when to keep his mouth shut.

With her usual perfect timing, Antenatal Sally appeared at the door. ‘I’m just about to press play!’

Everyone sat in shocked silence, their expressions ranging from disbelief to abject terror. Everyone except for Naomi. She was beaming. Was she for real?

The birth film had left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Nothing Jenny wanted to imagine, anyway. A series of clips had followed an incredibly calm woman and her overly supportive husband at each stage of labour. It started in their home where they drank tea and chatted as if they had all the time in the world, and ended in a hospital delivery suite. Panting. Groaning. Unwanted close-ups of the baby’s ridiculously large head emerging from between its mother’s legs.

Jenny pressed her hand to her mouth. Oh God.