Yvonne gets up from the floor and takes the seat next to Emma, turning to look at her. She doesn’t only look ill but also tired, fed up, she looks worn out. Yvonne puts her arm around her friend’s shoulders and pulls her in for a hug. Ten times is an exaggeration, but there were definitely a few missed calls from Emma. However, when Yvonne is lucky enough to have time with Lewis, the last thing she’s going to do is take a call. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been around much recently.’ She wants to blame her work, it’s the get-out clause no one can argue with. ‘But I’m here for you now.’

‘Thanks,’ Emma pulls away and blows her nose.

Again, a baby comes to mind, all rolls of fat and a blacked-up face. Yvonne tries and fails to hold in a laugh.

‘What the hell could be funny right now?’ Emma asks.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says, but can’t stop.

‘Dude, what the fuck?’

‘I keep picturing this little baby in blackface.’ She laughs again and Emma throws the balled-up tissue at her.

‘This is so not the time for jokes.’ But Emma now laughs as well, through her tears until they stop.

‘You’ve got to tell him.’

Emma sighs. ‘I know.’

‘What are you waiting for?’

‘The birth?’

‘Em, this is a huge. If you’re really going through with this—’

‘Of course I’m going through with it.’

As much as Yvonne wants to ask why, deep down she knows, Emma’s lonely and has absolutely nothing else going on. Maybe this isn’t the worst thing in the world to happen to her. After all, her own mum had Nick when she was twenty; she always says it was the making of her.

Yvonne hands Emma back her mortar board and says, ‘I think you’ll be a great mum.’

Emma smiles weakly. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’ Yvonne can see it then, Emma would be a fun mum, a cool mum, someone who would be more like a friend than a parent. And Yvonne would be there too, buying the kid the best presents for their birthday and taking it to the park when it could walk.

‘I thought I’d be a bit older when this happened,’ Emma says, ‘and also, not alone.’

It’s always the issue with Emma, this almost paranoia that everyone is off having a great time with their families while she’s by herself. It’s even more of a reason why becoming a mum will probably be such a good thing for her.

‘You’re not alone. In fact, you’ll never be alone again.’ Yvonne nods down to her friend’s stomach.

‘You really think I’ll be a good mum?’

‘Yes. This kid is going to be so lucky to have you.’