Really.’

The queue began to move and Jenny bought the panini she hadn’t chosen, three cookies and a large latte – decaf, to avoid another lecture. On the way out, her mobile buzzed in her bag. A message from Eva.

Come and see me as soon as you get in. Don’t speak to ANYONE.

At last.

If Eva asked for something to be done soon, it meant now. But Jenny’s bladder, or the baby sitting on it, couldn’t have cared less. Halfway back to the office, she had to waddle furiously into M&S to find a toilet.

Thank God. No queue. But the cubicles were built for toothpicks. Reversing in seemed easiest, but she still whacked her elbow on the wall trying to wriggle her maternity tights off her hips. These reinforced passion-killers had become a begrudged necessity. The other option was maternity trousers, but their elasticated front sections made her feel like an entrant to a pie-eating contest.

Maybe Queue Woman was partly right. Some things had changed in the last few months. For a start, Jenny’s idea of a good time had become lying on the sofa watching First Dates whilst licking Marmite off the top of a crumpet. But she was pregnant, for goodness’ sake; there was a small human being inside her. Once the baby was here, her body would return to normal and the rest of her life would follow. She’d be able to stay awake past 9 p.m., wear clothes that didn’t resemble camping equipment and be out and about researching nightlife for ‘Girl About Town’.

Finally, she escaped the cubicle. Only to be caught at the wash basins by another one of the ‘It’ll change your life’ brigade. The Bump got another feel. A rather damp one.

‘Oh, look at you! You’re about to pop any minute!’

‘Five weeks to go.’ Maybe she should have a countdown display on her forehead?

Toilet Woman put her head on one side. ‘Oh, I remember it well. Such an exciting time. Getting everything ready, reading all the baby books, thinking up names.’ She motioned towards Jenny’s cup and chuckled. ‘Enjoy your hot drinks while you can. You won’t be getting many of those soon.’

Why wouldn’t she be able to have a hot drink? Because she might spill it over the baby?

‘Sorry, I really need to go. I have to meet my boss and make a plan for my maternity leave.’

Toilet Woman did The All-Knowing Smile. ‘You may feel differently once baby is here. I couldn’t even think about going back to work and leaving mine.’ She sighed. ‘I just loved them too much.’

Jenny felt her morning sickness make a surprise return. Toilet Woman should meet her sister, Claire. The two of them would get along like a 1950s house on fire.

The main office of Flair magazine was open plan. Deadline day on a weekly magazine meant a buzz of activity: boxes of beauty product freebies spilled over desks, last-minute telephone conversations hunting down the latest celebrity news, photos of interviewees being approved or rejected.