I paused. Willing him to say something – anything – to suggest he was happy.

Another couple of seconds passed.

‘Isn’t it brilliant?’

‘It’s amazing!’ he smiled at last. ‘It’s fantastic!’ and almost immediately it was Jason who was dabbing tears from his eyes.

‘We’re going to be parents,’ I beamed, finally able to let a feeling of pure joy wash over me. ‘We’re going to have a little baby.’

‘It’s – it’s mind-blowing,’ he said, and put a hand on my stomach. ‘To think our child is growing in there.’ And with those words, tears welled up in my eyes too. No amount of blinking could make them stay put.

‘I promise I’ll be a good dad,’ he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘I swear, I’ll try my best.’

I pulled him into a big hug and he buried his face into my neck, breathing me in as he cried.

‘I know,’ I murmured. ‘You’ll be the best daddy ever.’

Five minutes later, I was still trying to console Jason, who was properly sobbing, on the grass, in the middle of Finsbury Circus. Was this normal? Surely this scenario should really be the other way around given I was the one with the raging hormones?

‘I don’t know if I’m worthy of this,’ he said, before adding, ‘but I’m so pleased you got your wish.’

He was right, I had got my wish – but wasn’t it his wish too?

In that moment, being pregnant was all that mattered. However, looking back, I couldn’t help but wonder exactly what he meant by not feeling ‘worthy’.

Chapter Nine

Lucy

Wednesday 5^th May

The third meeting of The Baby Group was at Aisha’s house that evening and, as she only lived around the corner from me, it meant I didn’t have to carry my heavier-than-it-looked best ceramic dish very far. I had made an organic spinach salad with shaved carrot, toasted pine nuts and mango pieces, topped with a lime dressing – not my best effort compared to the first salad, but still impressive, considering I’d pulled it together after a full Wednesday at work. I needed to start taking things slower. After having a few Braxton Hicks contractions in the night I was fearful the baby was going to arrive ahead of the date of my planned caesarean on 24^th May. I still had a week and a half left at work as I was keen to maximize my maternity leave, so this little baby needed to stay put. I turned down Oscar’s offer to carry the salad dish for me, but was heeding his advice to give up going anywhere on the Tube. From now on, he insisted I took an Uber to and from the office, because the last thing I wanted was for my waters to break somewhere between Clapham Common and Leicester Square. So this Baby Group was already proving its worth, allowing me to retain the semblance of a social life, right on my doorstep.