“Yes,” Margot says. “Now, let’s get a better understanding of what contractions are, how they progress and some of the ways your partner can help you to manage them.”

Smirking, I turn my head a fraction to look at Pete. I’m predicting he’s broken out in a cold sweat, desperate to do a runner. But he’s leaning forwards, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on Margot, and he looks more than pleased to be here. He’s enthralled.

*

A couple of hours later, I’m finally released and stride outside. Pete stays behind to ask Margot more questions and I wait by the car. My stomach is churning. I knew labour meant pain. Of course I did – who didn’t? I also know it’s good to be prepared for childbirth. But I wish I could go in blind, deal with it as it happens, instead of knowing what lies ahead. Margot hasn’t even started talking about the actual delivery of the baby yet – that’s being kept in store for next week.

As the other couples leave, I smile, wave, call out “see you next time” and hope they can’t see how much effort it takes. Then I sit in the car and watch as Pete jog towards me.

“That was awesome,” he says, climbing into the car. “I never knew about any of that stuff.”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” I snap.

“Hey, are you OK?” Pete puts a hand on my leg.

I nod, blinking back the sudden threat of tears. Why does Pete have to be so positive and nice all of a sudden?

“I’m fine,” I mutter. “Just tired.”

“Yeah, well, you know what Margot says – a lot of energy goes into growing a baby. You’ve got to take care of yourself.”

“Thanks for that nugget of wisdom.”

Pete gives my leg a squeeze.

“What are you up to tomorrow night?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

“Good. I’m bringing you dinner and I’m going to give you a long shoulder massage while we watch a movie – your choice.”

I shake my head. “Did you hit your head this morning?”

Pete laughs. “Get used to it, Trish. From now on, I’m the new and improved Peter. Peter 2.0, if you will.”

“I’m not sure about this upgrade. It has a lot of advanced features.” I’m trying to keep things light while I figure out what’s going on between us.

Pete’s hand slides further up my leg. “You haven’t seen the half of them yet,” he murmurs.

My heart flutters, my skin prickles and my pulse pounds in my ears. I like his hand on my leg. I like the look he’s giving me.

This isn’t good. This is not good at all.