I knew I needed to test only either Harry or Tom. The other would be ruled out that way. So I searched further, a different clinic, different rules, and found I could send in the nail clippings of the potential father. Nail clippings! I felt like I was on a seedy reality television show and there was an audience hissing at me. It did say that nail clippings might not give a clear result, but it wouldn’t give a false positive. A saliva swab was preferable but I wasn’t going to be able to get that. I looked further; if I could get a big enough sample of hair, there was a chance they could test that, too, as long as the roots were present. Harry’s hair was too short for that, I knew. Unless I pulled it from his head myself—quite a tempting option, actually—I’d never be able to get a sample. Panic surged in my belly. What was I going to do?

Quickly I cleared my search engine history. The very last thing I needed was for Harry to see what I’d been looking at.

I went to the kitchen to make coffee, but as soon as I opened the packet of coffee beans the smell hit me and I had to race to the bathroom again. Afterward I sat in the living room, my body shaking and sweating, and I wondered how on earth I was going to wait another couple of months before I told Harry I was pregnant.

•   •   •

As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait at all.

Just before five P.M. my mobile rang. I was wrapped in a blanket on the sofa; all attempts at work were futile as I could hardly move without feeling sick. My mouth tasted of metal, my breasts were sore, and I felt as though I could sleep for a week.

“Hi, Jane.”

“Hi.” She sounded distracted. “Sorry I didn’t call earlier. It’s been such a busy day. I can’t stay long now actually as I have to go into a meeting soon. We have to do a formal handover. What’s up? Is everything okay?”

I suppose it was my hormones messing around, but at the sound of her kind voice, I just burst into tears.

“What is it?” She was panicking now. “Are you okay?”

“You’ll never guess,” I said. “I’ve just found out I’m pregnant.”

“What?” She sounded as amazed as I felt. “But . . . how?”

I laughed, then, choking on my tears. “The usual way.”

“That’s incredible! Congratulations! Oh, Emma, this is the best news ever.” I heard her call to someone, “Can I see you before I go?”

“There’s something I need to talk to you about.” I swallowed. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Something I’m really worried about.”