As soon as they were back at Anchor House, Willow opened the fridge and was rewarded with the sight of an open bottle of Pinot Grigio.

‘Er … correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought you were pregnant and therefore, like me, not drinking alcohol,’ said Martha.

‘Just one,’ said Willow, already opening the cupboard where the glasses were kept. ‘One teeny glass won’t hurt the baby. Mum, I bet you had the odd drink now and then when you were expecting us, didn’t you?’

‘It’s true I did. But it was different back then. We were all a bit more relaxed.’

‘Well, we turned out just fine, didn’t we?’ said Willow, pouring wine into a glass. ‘So I’m going to risk it. But please don’t let on to Rick,’ she added. ‘I know he has my best interests at heart, and the baby’s, but honestly, it’s such a bore having to follow all his dos and don’ts. I swear I don’t know what I’m allowed to do half the time.’ She held out the bottle. ‘Martha?’

‘Oh, go on, then,’ her sister said. ‘But just a very small amount.’

‘Mum, how about you? Or should that be Grandma-to-be, are you going to join us?’

‘Absolutely!’ she replied. ‘How could I not join you in drinking a toast to your wonderful news?’

They took their glasses out to the garden and instead of sitting on the verandah in the shade, they opted for the group of deckchairs on the lawn that was still catching the late afternoon sun.

‘Mum, I know you’ll be chuffed about Martha being pregnant,’ said Willow, after they’d settled themselves and chinked their glasses, ‘but how do you really feel about me having a baby?’

‘Goodness, what an extraordinary question! I’m delighted for you, of course I am.’

Willow wished guiltily that she could say the same herself. ‘I don’t think Dad would have been so delighted, would he? I mean, it’s just another example of me not getting something right.’

Both her sister and mother stared at her.

‘Look,’ she said, ‘you might just as well know, my being pregnant wasn’t planned. I was as shocked as you both must be. I don’t even really know how it happened.’

‘Do we need to show you with the use of diagrams?’ suggested Martha with a raised eyebrow.

Willow shook her head. ‘No need. What I’m saying is that we were being careful … you know … taking precautions, and yet somehow I ended up pregnant. I’m seventeen weeks now and I can even feel the baby moving inside me, a sort of weird fluttering sensation. I have a blurry scan photo of the baby too, but … but it still doesn’t feel real.’

‘Seventeen weeks,’ repeated Mum. ‘You don’t look it.’

‘Maybe that’s why it still doesn’t feel real for you?’ suggested Martha.

‘Could be,’ Willow said vaguely.

‘Well, however it happened,’ said Mum, ‘it’s where you are now, and you have plenty of time to come to terms with being a mother. I must say, Rick seems very happy about it.’