‘If you weren’t pregnant, would you be tempted?’ he asked.

‘Pregnant or not, I think it’s worth finding out more,’ she said, fidgeting in her seat to put less strain on her fit-to-burst bladder. ‘I’ll be perfectly straight with them and explain the situation. Not that I’ll be able to hide things for much longer.’

She put a hand to her swelling abdomen, which was now straining against the waistband of her skirt. Another week or so and her wardrobe would have to be adjusted to accommodate her baby bump. She had already bought a few new clothes online in readiness, along with a bigger-sized bra, but she was hoping to go shopping over the weekend while down at Anchor House. It had actually been Mum’s idea that, along with Willow, they go to Chichester, or perhaps Portsmouth so that she could treat her daughters to some maternity clothes and baby things. ‘Let it be my treat to you,’ Mum had said. ‘We’ll leave the boys at home and have some girl-time together.’

Martha had baulked at hearing Mum refer to Ellis, Tom and Rick as ‘the boys’ but she was slowly, if still a little reluctantly, coming to terms with Ellis being a part of the family. He had moved in to Anchor House some time ago, but all talk of marrying had gone on hold. According to Mum they had decided it wasn’t necessary. Whether or not it was the first crack in their big romance remained to be seen, but for now, Martha was satisfied that a degree of common sense was being applied.

‘Martha Adams?’

‘That’s us,’ murmured Tom, taking her hand as they stood up and followed the nurse who’d called out her name.

It wasn’t until she was actually lying on the couch and cold gel was being squirted onto her baby bump that Martha suddenly felt nervous. What if the scan revealed something wrong with their baby? Or what if her dream was a premonition of her expecting more than one? With Tom by her side, she gripped his hand tightly. He gave her a reassuring smile.

‘Now then,’ said the radiologist in a cheery voice. ‘Do you want to know the sex of your little one?’

‘Yes,’ they answered in perfect unison.

The woman smiled back at them. ‘Well then, let’s see what we can see, shall we?’

Holding her breath, Martha turned her head to look at the screen. Please, please, please, don’t let there be anything wrong, she silently hoped.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

In the weeks since he had moved in with her, Naomi and Ellis had been busy at Anchor House.

At her instigation, they had cleared out cupboards and wardrobes and jettisoned furniture which even Naomi, as an instinctive collector of things that might come in handy one day, had no trouble parting with. This was a fresh start for her, after all.

In an attempt to make Ellis feel properly at home, Naomi had also suggested they give her bedroom a long overdue makeover. Out with the old bed and in with a beautiful antique walnut frame bedstead with the addition of a fabulously comfortable mattress, which Ellis had sourced and paid for. She didn’t know the exact cost of the mattress, but when he’d said it was top-notch hotel quality, she suspected she could have bought a new car for the same amount of money. All the old bedlinen had been replaced with new, and the sun-faded curtains that had hung at the window and French doors that opened onto the wooden balcony had also been replaced. Naomi had bought a roll of Colefax and Fowler fabric – cream linen patterned with blue hydrangeas – and made the curtains herself. She’d added drops of sheer voile too.