Lost in a daydream of creating her utopia in a modern, sprawling home devoid of cockroaches and black mold, Jess startled at the sound of a car braking hard on gravel. She rose to look out the window and saw an ashen-faced Libby getting out of the car. It wasn’t the first time Libby had arrived on her doorstep looking like this and it meant only one thing.

Genuine disappointment filled her and she opened the door and her arms. “Oh, shit. You’ve got your period. I’m sorry, Lib.”

Libby brought her elbows up, knocking Jess’s arms aside. “I don’t think you’re sorry one little bit.”

The action and accusation stung. Jess had spent hours listening to Libby’s pain and sadness over losing Dom and her failure to conceive again. “Of course I am. I know how gutted you are every time you get your period. Sit down and I’ll make tea.”

“I don’t want a bloody cup of tea.”

It didn’t happen often, but occasionally Libby’s practical and scientific mind went into full-on drama queen mode. It was usually connected to the girls and to a lesser extent Nick when he’d dropped the ball and wasn’t world’s best husband, but today it was the disappointment she wasn’t pregnant. When this version of Libby appeared, experience had taught Jess it was best just to let her vent.

“Coffee then? It’s a bit early for a drink. Don’t want to be the stereotypical single mother who has her kid in the car and gets nailed for being over the legal limit,” she said.

“Nothing about you comes close to being a stereotype.”

Normally, Jess would have basked in her friend’s admiration, but today there was no way Libby’s words could be construed as a compliment. A niggle of unease made Jess examine their earlier phone call, searching for clues, but the only thing she came up with was Libby had sounded slightly distracted. For the previous year, Libby had been obsessed with having another baby. Once, when Nick had been replacing faucet washers, Jess had managed to draw him out on his feelings about another child.

“I think we should accept it’s not going to happen and move on.”

Jess had almost cried in relief. As much as she understood Libby’s desire for a son of her own, Jess didn’t want another baby drawing Nick’s attention away from her and Leo. As it was, it took all her energy to keep hold of the small share of him she’d managed to carve out.

Jess flicked on the kettle and lifted two mugs from their hooks.

Libby’s hands gripped the back of a kitchen chair. “Nick told me Leo is his.”