‘OK, Mum. I don’t really know Steph, so I don’t need to see her baby photos. Speak to you soon though.’

My heart sinks. My achievements never seem good enough.

I reach the bus stop. I always get the same one into Soho, but this time it’s like I’m in an episode of Black Mirror – everyone is smiling at me. It’s so weird. A woman with a pushchair grins at me; a young guy collecting money for charity, who normally hassles me, just nods warmly in my direction; a man waiting at the bus stop gets up quickly and offers me a seat.

‘Congratulations!’ a man with a toupee and briefcase whispers, looking me up and down.

Creepy.

Congratulations on what?

Then I realize. Oh shit: the badge.

I take it off before I see someone I know – that would be a very hard lie to wriggle out of – and I feel instantly invisible again.

I’m half an hour early for my drink with Col. My phone beeps; I assume it’s Col running late but it’s actually a new WhatsApp message from Cec. It hits me that it’s been a while since I heard from her. She hasn’t replied to any of my latest messages asking her how she is. I mean, I completely get it, she’s busy with a new baby and all. But I realize I’ve totally stopped expecting any replies from her.

Cecily: Hi guys – I wondered if you were up for organizing my baby shower! Well, I’m calling it a ‘baby party’ because it’s not really a baby shower as Oscar is already here. Wanna do it next weekend. YES I KNOW IT’S THREE MONTHS AFTER I’VE ACTUALLY GIVEN BIRTH but I’d always had it in my head to do it this way. I wanted Oscar to be there, celebrating with us!!! It can be my baby shower slash his sort-of three-month birthday? Anyway, nothing major, just bringing people together (I’ll send you a list) and help with some of the decorations.

Bea: That sounds like a lovely idea, Cecy. I’ll make a cake!

Isla: Sure x

Cec: Ah fantastic, thanks guys! I thought we could plan it together tomorrow when you all come over! Are we still on for the little rendezvous at mine? Oscar is excited to see you all!

Me: Cool – looking forward to seeing old OAP.

Cec: *eye-roll emoji*

Bea: Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Can’t wait.

Isla: I’ll be there x

I don’t mind helping, neither does Bea, but to ask Isla, while she is struggling with IVF appointments and other stuff? Not cool, Cec. Not cool at all. I understand that Cec might be in an awkward position, not wanting to leave Isla out and all. But it feels like a bit of salt in the wound.

I give Isla a call to check how she is. It rings and rings, but no answer.

When I arrive at Cecily’s house the next evening, Bea and Isla are already there. Bea is busying herself in the kitchen, opening cardboard boxes and unwrapping wine glasses from bubble wrap. I walk into Cec’s giant living room and she’s put the fire on, which is making crackling noises. I can immediately feel the warmth on my face. Cec is kneeling in the middle of the room on a grey fluffy rug, gesturing and muttering something about ‘the plan of attack’. She has lots of folders spread out, highlighters and stickers and Post-it notes.