‘I bet he’s got mega sperm. Muscular sperm that just kick silly pills out of the way like bullies in a playground. The quiet ones are always the ones you have to watch.’

‘Weird again. Have you got anything useful to say before I hang up?’

‘No. Congratulations, obviously. I mean, not just on the sex, although I’m pleased that was satisfactory. You’ve landed a good one this time. Try not to fuck it up, won’t you?’

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence!’

‘It’s what sisters are for. Right, I’m off to call Mum. Love you.’

‘Love you too.’

I’m still trying to unravel the good bits of my call with Tash from the weird and frankly obscene when my phone rings again. Unsurprisingly, it’s Mum.

‘Darling!’ she gushes. ‘Natasha told me the news, and we’re all absolutely delighted for you.’

‘I’m sorry? When you say “all”…’

‘Well, your father and Gloria were here for a glass of wine, so naturally we put her on speakerphone. It sounds like you had quite an athletic afternoon.’

So much for Tash not sharing any details with Mum. I’m mortified, but also not completely surprised. That won’t stop me killing her though.

Mum is evidently oblivious to my murderous thoughts, as she continues in the kind of tone she used to use if one of us won a prize at school.

‘I’m so pleased that Will is a good lover. It’s such an important trait, yet I’m informed that precious few men have it. I’ve been lucky, of course. Your father was always considerate in bed, and Andy is just the same.’

‘Mum, I really don’t want to know this stuff,’ I tell her, while simultaneously trying to work out what is the slowest and most painful death I could inflict on my sister.

‘Tsk. I thought nurses were supposed to have cast-iron constitutions. Anyway, he’s coming for Christmas, isn’t he?’

‘I haven’t asked. He and his father have probably got plans.’

‘Nonsense. They must both come. I rely on you to make it happen. Oh, and find out about their dietary requirements. We don’t want a repeat of Brenda and the prawn mousse.’

‘Nobody wants that,’ I tell her with a shudder. Poor Brenda is one of my mum’s best friends, but we only found out about her shellfish allergy after she’d had a large helping of a mousse that Mum had completely neglected to tell her was chock-full of prawns. Amazingly, they both think it’s hysterically funny now, but then they weren’t the ones expected to deal with her as she swelled up and started wheezing. Thank goodness she had an EpiPen in her bag, otherwise it could have been much more serious.

‘Exactly,’ Mum says matter-of-factly. ‘I’ll leave that with you then.’