“Forget it, Scott,” I say over my shoulder. “It’s this bloody pregnancy making me all emotional.”

As I pass the front door, someone knocks and I jump.

“That’ll be the pizza,” I say too brightly.

Ignoring Scott, who I know is staring at me, I open the door and give the young, pimply guy a massive grin. He looks shocked, which makes me suspect I might look as demented as I feel.

“Fantastic,” I say, grabbing the stack of pizza boxes. “I’m starving. Thank you.”

Slamming the door far too hard, I charge into the living room.

“Who’s hungry?”

Lily frowns. “You all right there, Trish?”

“Of course.”

I place the boxes on the coffee table as Tilly, Will and Emma return from the kitchen.

Scott slips into the room. He waits for the others to help themselves, then reaches for a piece of pizza and takes a bite. When his eyes turn towards me, I quickly look away.

It’s time to stop blurting out my life story to a practical stranger. Scott is not my knight in shining armour and I’m not some damsel in distress who needs saving. I’m ball-busting, take-no-prisoners, I-don’t-need-anyone Trish. That’s the way it needs to stay.

23

My phone starts to ring and I refuse to drag myself out of my chair to answer. Instead, I glare at the glowing screen resting beside the toaster and will my phone to shut up. I’ve had the day from hell and I’m in no mood to talk to anyone.

In a pathetic act of defiance, I swallow my piece of toast and take a sip of my lukewarm peppermint tea, determined to ignore my phone as if I might somehow hurt its feelings. I realize with a jolt the kitchen has become dark all of a sudden. I glance at the window and am shocked to see it’s no longer light. How did the evening suddenly speed up? I feel like I’ve only been home from work for a few minutes.

I’m too tired to get up from the kitchen table. Too tired, too grumpy and too fed up. Surely the phone will stop ringing soon. I mean, who hangs on that long? Unless… What if it’s Emma? She could be in labour. I leap to my feet and grab the phone.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Trish. I was about to hang up.”

It’s Will. I can’t decide if I’m relieved or annoyed.

“Hi.”

“Is this a bad time?”

I take a deep breath and let it out. Just because I’ve had a bad day doesn’t mean I should take it out on my brother. If only I didn’t have to be an adult all the time and act accordingly.

“It’s fine, Will,” I say as enthusiastically as I can. “How are you? How’s Tilly?”