‘Does he?’ Peter shot back far too quickly, before checking himself. ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. He does seem happy enough.’

Jo sighed heavily. ‘Look, Peter … Whatever either of us thinks of her, she’s pregnant, with his child … and they’re getting married. Whatever doubts any of us might have, we need to put them to one side and support them, for Ben’s sake.’

‘Hmmm.’ Again Peter hesitated, his eyes clouding with worry. ‘I know you’re right. I suppose I just wish …’

Jo tilted her head to look at him properly. ‘Wish what?’

‘That it wasn’t her. There, I’ve said it.’ He shrugged apologetically.

Jo wrapped her arms around Peter’s waist and reached up to kiss him. ‘I know. But it is her. I’m sure it’ll all be fine, don’t worry. Now, come on or we’ll be late.’

Downstairs, Ben was sitting in the kitchen with Matt, drinking coffee. Jo gave Matt a hug. ‘Hello, darling, lovely to see you.’

Matt grinned back. Although he was now a fully grown, 30-year-old man, Jo could still see in his face the cheeky little 7-year-old boy she had first met all those years ago, when he and Ben had become friends at primary school. ‘You look lovely, Jo.’

Jo flushed with pride. Matt had spent so much time at their house over the years that he had become like a second son and Jo adored him. ‘Thank you, Matt. And so do you. How is Freya?’

Matt beamed. ‘She’s really well. She’s going to meet us at the registry office.’

Jo had no idea what to expect from today at all. She had always known that when Ben got married, it would be his bride who decided everything. But she felt sure that Charlotte would have at least involved her and Peter in the planning and preparations. Aside from telling them where and when, Bella and Ben had excluded them from any discussions, insisting they wanted to do everything themselves.

‘OK, well, I guess we’d better get going then.’ Jo walked over to Ben and adjusted his tie fractionally. She looked up at him, marvelling at how the years had galloped by – her baby boy, who had struggled to take his first breath, was now this tall, handsome young man about to get married.

The tears pricked at the back of her eyes and she smiled in an exaggerated way to try to quell them. Sometimes she felt as if Ben was at the end of a string connected directly to her heart. He pulled at her in a way that, although she and Emma were incredibly close, Emma had never done. ‘You look so handsome, sweetheart,’ she told him now. ‘Bella is a very lucky girl.’

Ben flashed her a smile that was a mirror image of his father’s but she could see from his dark brown eyes that he was nervous. ‘Thanks, Mum.’

Peter drove the four of them in his Range Rover into the centre of town, where he parked in the car park of the rather ugly Seventies building that housed the registry office.