“Sorry,” she says, crumbs flying from her mouth. “I was hungry.”

“Eat as much as you want. I’ve got plenty more.”

That’s not entirely accurate, but I’m sure there’s a packet of nuts I could open.

“So, what gives, Trish? Why have you been hiding from us?” Lily fixes me with her intimidating glare.

“I’ve just had a cold, that’s all.”

“Bollocks,” says Emma. “Tell us what’s going on. You’ve got your nervous thumb thing happening.”

The problem with having friends who know you so well is that you have friends who know you too well. I didn’t even realize I was rubbing my thumb against my forefinger – something I do when I’m majorly stressed. I sit next to Mags and take a deep breath.

“I told Elliot and Pete a few days ago.”

“How did they take it?” Mags asks.

“Not great.”

“Are they going to do the DNA test?” Emma asks.

“I don’t know. They did both say they hoped they weren’t the father, so that was nice.”

“Arseholes.” Lily leans forwards and picks up the wine bottle. “Is this just for decoration or can I open it?”

“Go ahead.”

“I can’t believe they weren’t more supportive,” Emma says, frowning. “Especially Pete. Having never met Elliot, I can’t vouch for him, but, well, Pete is… Pete.”

“Em, that means nothing,” says Lily, taking a quick sip of wine. “This is the same guy who decided it was all right to bugger off to the other side of the world so he could advance his career without so much as a goodbye.”

“Good point, Lils,” pipes Mags.

I never told my friends Pete also had sex with someone else while we were together. It was easier to keep that painful news to myself.

“I also told my boss I was pregnant,” I state. “She was a complete bitch.”

“Spill,” says Mags.

“She basically said she was disappointed I’d chosen to ruin my career and that I needed to hand over all of my projects, including the one in Tokyo that I’ve sweated over for months. Oh, and she said she didn’t pick me as being someone with the mother gene.”

“The mother gene? Is she mental?” Lily demands.

“You should quit,” Emma says firmly.

I shake my head. “I don’t want to leave my job.”

“You’d get another one, Trish,” says Mags, cutting herself another slice of brie. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

“Thanks, Mags.”

“She’s right.” Lily shuffles forwards in her seat, her face fierce. “You’ve been in that job too long, Trish. Give them the finger and bust a move.”

“Who’s going to take me on with this?” I point at my bump.

“Do you even like your job?” Emma asks.