“Almost too good to be true,” says Lily sarcastically.

“Yeah, well, let’s see how he responds when I tell him the results,” I mutter.

Emma leans over to squeeze my hand. “Take a couple of days to get used to the idea, Trish. You don’t have to rush into telling anyone.”

“I just want to get it over with. Actually, what I really want is to delete the email from the doctor and pretend I don’t know the truth.”

“How important is it to tell the father, anyway?” says Lily.

“Very!” Emma and Mags state together.

“But surely women don’t always reveal the sperm donor.”

I should be used to Lily’s bullet-to-the-chest comments, but every now and then one gets through.

“Elliot and Pete weren’t just sperm donors. You make it sound like I meant to get pregnant.”

Lily opens her mouth to say something, closes it and whispers, “Sorry.”

That’s seriously something, coming from her. I must look freaked out.

Emma gives my hand another squeeze. “Trish, I know it’ll be tough, but Elliot and Pete both need to be told. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I know, Em.” Scrambling to my feet, I put my hands on my hips and stand up tall. I’ve dealt with shock and disappointment all of my life. Like Scott said when he left earlier, I’m gutsy. I can deal with this, like I’ve dealt with countless things before. “The sooner I tell them, the better.”

“One of us could go with you?” offers Mags. “I don’t mind.”

I smile at the three concerned faces I know so well. “Thanks, guys. I’d better manage this part on my own.”

Emma grimaces and flops back hard against the cushions. She sucks in her breath and holds it.

“Emma?” I ask, all of my worries gone in an instant.

“It’s nothing,” she whistles through her teeth.

“Like hell,” says Lily, practically falling over herself to land in front of Emma. “What’s up?”

Emma shakes her head and tries to smile through her grimace. “Give me a sec,” she gasps.

We all wait, collectively holding our breaths.

Slowly, Emma’s tense body starts to relax and she breathes out. “Phew, that was a big one.”

“Jesus, you can’t be in labour yet, Em,” says Lily in panic.

“I’m not. Calm down. I’m sure it was just a Braxton Hicks. A practice run, getting me ready for the real thing.”

“A what?” asks Mags, perplexed.

I remember my midwife mentioning them, but I’ve yet to experience one myself. If Emma’s response is anything to go by, I’m not sure I want to.

“It’s a tightening of the uterus. Your stomach literally goes rock hard and sometimes, when it’s a biggie like that last one, it can feel pretty powerful,” Emma says.

“Powerful, eh?” mocks Lily. “That’s one way of describing it.”