Chapter Twenty-Four: Aisha

Chapter Twenty-Five: Lucy

Chapter Twenty-Six: Lucy

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Aisha

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Aisha

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Lucy

Chapter Thirty: Aisha

Chapter Thirty-One: Aisha

Chapter Thirty-Two: Lucy

Chapter Thirty-Three: Aisha

Chapter Thirty-Four: Lucy

Chapter Thirty-Five: Lucy

Chapter Thirty-Six: Aisha

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Lucy

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Aisha

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Lucy

Chapter Forty: Aisha

Chapter Forty-One: Lucy

Chapter Forty-Two: Aisha

Chapter Forty-Three: Lucy

Chapter Forty-Four: Aisha

Chapter Forty-Five: Aisha

Chapter Forty-Six: Aisha

Chapter Forty-Seven: Lucy

Chapter Forty-Eight: Aisha

Chapter Forty-Nine: Lucy

Chapter Fifty: Aisha

Acknowledgements

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Aisha

Saturday 24^th April

‘Oh no,’ I sighed, holding the paper between my fingers. It had been on the fridge door for a month. Four weeks in which I should have read it to the end.

Still in my slippers, baggy pyjama bottoms and a slightly tatty T-shirt – low on style, but one of the few outfits that was still relatively comfortable at this stage of my pregnancy – I padded from the kitchen to the bedroom and stood in the doorway.

I looked at him with faint hope. ‘I don’t suppose you read this, did you?’

Jason grunted in response; he was half asleep.

‘Jason?’ I said, more loudly than was strictly necessary. ‘It says I need to bring a sharing dish to contribute to the lunch.’ I paused, searching his features for a clue, before adding a loud, cursory, ‘Great. You didn’t. So I don’t have a sharing dish. Aargh!’

It wasn’t Jason’s fault. Joining The Baby Group had been my idea and I should have read the paperwork. ‘So now I’ll have to leave the house in the next five minutes so I can stop by the deli and pick up something overpriced.’

As I flung open the wardrobe doors and pulled out my maternity jeans and a stretchy mauve maternity top, my mind was already ticking over, wondering whether I should take a nice plate on which to put the shop-bought sandwiches, with some foil to cover them, and whether perhaps there were some cherry tomatoes in the bottom of the fridge, which I could add as a garnish so no one would know they were bought. I grabbed a silver pendant and slung it around my neck in an attempt to jazz myself up a bit.

Jason had propped himself up onto his elbows. ‘Is it really that bad?’ he said, fixing his green eyes on me, concern mixed with a mild amusement etched across his face. That gorgeous face. He even looked gorgeous first thing in the morning, damn him.

‘Yes it is. I’ve messed up. You’re meant to take food to share with the group at lunchtime. We have nothing in the fridge. The universe is clearly trying to tell me this Baby Group is a bad idea.’ I paused and looked at him. ‘Maybe I won’t go.’

‘Baby, come on. You’ve got to go. You’ve been thinking about this day for weeks,’ he said. He was correct, I had.

‘Hmm, weeks and weeks in which I could have been better prepared. I can’t face it now.’