Just keep asking questions.

‘What do you think of the class?’

Ruth lowered her voice. ‘To be honest, I only came to meet other mums. We’ve read about fifty baby books between us in the last few months. Unless they’ve discovered how to teleport the baby out of me, I doubt we’re going to find out anything new. David will be able to get work as a midwife by the end of this pregnancy.’

‘Could you ask him to have a word with Dan? He wants to treat the baby like a new DVD player – get it home and have a play with it, see what it does.’

Just then, the fifth mum-to-be of the group marched into the kitchen. Jenny tried to read her name-badge without staring at her ample boob area. That was an expensive-looking suit. Who knew you could get maternity clothes that made you look so professional?

‘So, this is where they’re hiding the hot drinks. I was hoping to find something better than the warm orange juice out there. Hi, I’m Gail. I work in investment.’ She reached out and shook their hands firmly. Was she about to thank them for coming and whip out an agenda?

‘How are you finding the class?’ Ruth asked.

‘It’s pretty much what I expected.’ Gail opened the cupboard doors and looked inside. Her short, maroon fingernails looked professionally manicured. ‘Don’t they have any paper cups? Those mugs are rancid.’

Was she looking down her nose at the mugs or at the two of them?

‘Have you been reading baby books, too?’ Clearly it was time for Jenny to feel the fear and read one of the manuals her sister had passed on. Pretending that she wasn’t about to go through childbirth was probably not the best strategy.

‘Just one. My mum bought it.’ Gail took the mug Jenny offered, then put it down on the counter and pushed it away. No wedding ring. ‘It covered the basics. I don’t need detail. Not like those two in there.’ She motioned towards the meeting room with her head. ‘That young girl is clearly some kind of Earth Mother. No pain relief? How ridiculous. And Antonia seems to think she’s a cut above the rest of us. No surprises there.’

Now this was more like it. Someone with an edge. Strong opinions. The possibility of friction. Please.

‘You know Antonia, then?’ Jenny couldn’t picture this Gail being friends with the Boden-clad beauty. In her well-cut suit, discreet make-up and expensive shoes, Gail looked as if she’d got lost on the way to a board room. Antonia would be more at home in Harvey Nichols’ Café.

Gail looked up sharply.