I untied the bag and, realizing a wipe wasn’t going to do the job, took her off into the baby changing room.

When I returned, only Lucy and one other table were left in the café. Admittedly, it had taken a while to do a complete strip-down, change her nappy and re-dress.

‘So sorry again,’ she said when I finally sat down again.

‘It was an accident,’ I laughed awkwardly.

We fell into silence.

‘Albie seems to be taking the bottle now, finally,’ she said eventually, making us both relieved to have something to talk about.

‘Oh great, I’m happy for you,’ I said. ‘What did you do? Did Oscar giving it to him help?’

‘He just got there in the end,’ she sighed. ‘It’s a relief. Oscar has been trying, but it’s not been straightforward. Maybe Albie senses something is wrong…’

‘Wrong?’ I probed her this time.

‘Well not wrong, exactly. I guess I’m just scared. I’m worried that Oscar’s not ready to be a daddy again.’ She paused, her head hung, avoiding eye contact. ‘I’m not sure he and I can do this together.’

‘I’m sorry, Lucy. It’s hard enough without this extra worry. Maybe Oscar just needs more time to get used to being a father again?’ I offered. ‘I guess we have nine months of intense training, whereas the men’s lives only properly change once the baby arrives. They have to catch up with us.’ I peered across at the pram. ‘Aw, look at him though; so handsome. He looks so much like him.’

Something I said seemed to stop Lucy in her tracks. After that, she didn’t seem to want to talk any more.

‘His lordship clearly isn’t going to sleep, so I might see if the walk home sends him off. I’d better get going,’ she said.

It felt as though Lucy was keeping secrets – teasing me with bits of information, the odd cry for help, but never giving away enough for us to have a proper conversation about how she was feeling. I suppose I’d only known her for a few weeks and perhaps she didn’t find it easy to open up, yet I had a hunch there were layers upon layers to be pulled back. I wondered if Lucy had many close friends. She hadn’t mentioned any – she had barely even spoken of her family, come to think of it.

Perhaps she needed some support right now. I resolved to give her the benefit of the doubt and make an effort. We might be new friends, but we had already shared so much. I decided to plan something nice for Lucy, mulling over the idea of organizing a small girlie surprise dinner for her, without babies, in the coming weeks. Perhaps some prosecco and company would help to cheer her up.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Lucy

Aisha’s slouchy white T-shirt had been pulled down so she could feed Joni, revealing a hint of thin bra strap and bare shoulder, which somehow managed to look sexy as her baby suckled contentedly. I felt a desperate stab of inadequacy. She could be a model in an advert for breastfeeding that wouldn’t look out of place in any fashion magazine. Even Joni was making the cutest little sighs. Aisha seemed to have everything. Everything I wanted. It made my insides ache.