“What’s it like, having forceps?” asked Rosa, balancing her tea on her bump.

Lauren pressed her lips together as she considered her answer. “You can’t feel it. They give you a spinal for the procedure, so it’s all blocked out.”

At the mention of the word “procedure” the two pregnant women appeared to lose their nerve. Cindy rushed in with, “I wonder how long these high temperatures will keep on,” and Rosa was also happy to let the subject veer towards safer ground. They talked instead of the terrible heat, of feeding bras, the best models of steriliser, nappies (Rosa was thinking about investing in cloth) and baby baths. When the tea was drunk, the two women gathered their stuff. Cindy and Rosa gave Lauren big hugs on the doorstep.

“Thanks again for the gifts,” said Lauren, “I can’t wait for Morgan and Riley to meet your babies. Not too much longer now, girls.”

“Hopefully,” said Cindy, massaging her lower back, “I can’t bear much more of this, to be honest.”

Lauren thought she would quite like to be back where they were, happily gestating their babies. There was nowhere safer. All the danger lay out here, in the world. Make the most of it, she wanted to say, but she knew from experience that this was an extremely irritating thing to say to a pregnant woman. She knew, too, they just wanted to hold those babies in their arms, and nothing else would do. “Keep me up to date, and good luck. See you on the other side.”

Rosa grinned and waved from the bottom of the steps, one hand on her protruding frontage.

Cindy gave Lauren a long look. “You do look shattered,” she said. “Go and have a nap now, while they’re still asleep.”

“Good idea,” said Rosa. “While you have the chance.”

“I will,” said Lauren. As long as it’s safe, she thought.

After she shut the door she picked up Cindy’s gift bag, intrigued by the antique book inside. The title on the front had been worn down, its gold colouring faded but still legible. Twin Tales: Collected Twin and Infant Folklore from Around the World. She flipped it open and scanned the contents page, and as she did, cold fear bloomed in the pit of her stomach. There in black and white, in old-fashioned serif script, someone had listed her every nightmare:

1. Lost Children

2. Orphans

3. Suspicious Deaths

4. Careless Parents

5. Twins and Curses

Lauren slammed the book shut and shoved it into the centre of a pile of presents and wrapping paper, puzzled and shocked at how Cindy could possibly think that this book was a good present for her. She tore open the other two gifts in the bag, not knowing what else they might have been given, relieved to find two very nice baby toys, a fish and an octopus that vibrated when you pulled a string.

Lauren mused that it seemed to be a day for receiving weird presents. When she wandered back into the kitchen, the rat family wasn’t where she’d left it. Later, opening the trash bin to drop in a teabag, there was the underside of the model with its distinctive hand-signed label. Patrick must have put it in there before he went upstairs. Shrugging, she plopped the teabag on top of it. She let the lid fall shut.