Thanks to Hollywood, she imagined that most people who lived in LA must be hugely successful and regularly hang out with the rich and famous. If Mum did marry Ellis and Lucas became Martha and Willow’s stepbrother, would he invite them all to visit him one day? Again, thanks to Hollywood, Willow pictured him owning a fabulous house with a pool in which she could dangle her toes while sipping a cocktail against a backdrop of the Hollywood Hills.

She was probably being silly, falling for an absurd stereotypical illusion, in the same way that she wanted to believe that all Parisians lived in charming old apartments with tiny balconies looking out towards the Eiffel Tower. But then as a romantic idealist, she had always found dreams were so much nicer than reality.

Just as the reality of being pregnant was a long way from the glossy version she had seen in a magazine Rick had bought home for her. All those sparkly-eyed mothers-to-be with their hair tied back in sleek ponytails as they posed for the camera with their swelling bodies pushing against the Lycra of their yoga outfits.

Yoga and skin-tight Lycra couldn’t be further from Willow’s mind. Now that the nausea had passed, she was dogged by extreme lethargy. Given the chance, she could easily sleep sixteen hours a day. Ironically, and even though Martha was seven weeks behind Willow with her pregnancy, she had already gone through a stage of constantly feeling tired, but now, so she said, her usual energy levels had returned. Hopefully the same would happen to Willow.

Every time Willow yawned, Rick would urge her to give up her job. Sometimes she was tempted to do just that, but then she would think of being alone all day in that spotless apartment with nothing to do. It was a shame she couldn’t hibernate somewhere warm and cosy like a tortoise did and wake up when the baby was due.

Apart from wanting to sleep and sleep, she had developed a massive craving for salt and vinegar crisps. Ever since the day of the fête down at Mum’s, she’d had a hankering for them. She was eating three or four packets a day. Usually at work so that Rick didn’t know. If he did, he’d go on about the high levels of fat and salt she was consuming. Bless him, he kept making energy-boosting health drinks for her to take to work. Some of which were disgusting. Kale had no place in a drink in her view. Nor did beetroot.

On the Monday after being down at Mum’s, Willow had met up with her friend Lucy and shared with her that she was pregnant. With Lucy being further down the pregnancy track than she was, Willow had been looking forward to sharing some of her worries with her friend, in the hope that she would be able to put her mind at rest. But that very evening after they’d been together for lunch, poor Lucy had had a miscarriage. There had been no warning, just awful stomach cramps that had Simon rushing her to hospital. But there was nothing that could be done to save the baby. Knowing how excited they had been at becoming parents, Willow was devastated for her friends. When she’d told Rick about it, he’d hugged her tight and told her not to worry.