As rough and sore as she felt, Jess could barely believe her luck. The twins were a decent weight and absolutely perfect. To be blessed with one of each was a sheer gift from God.

Eddie and Jessica had spoken about baby names for months leading up to the birth. They hadn’t known what they were having, so they had chosen two names for a boy and two for a girl.

Francesca was Jessica’s choice. She thought it was the prettiest name she’d ever heard. Eddie chose Joseph. He wanted the name to be a tribute to his deceased grandfather. Their names were shortened within the first few years of their lives. Everybody referred to them as Frankie and Joey. They adored one another, and everything they did, they did together.

Jessica’s thoughts were interrupted by her son.

‘Mum, I think I’m gonna be sick.’

Unable to find her usual supply of sick bags, Jessica urged him to try and hold on for a minute. ‘Open the window, Joey. I can’t stop in the middle of the A13. Let me get round this corner and I’ll –’

The sound of retching mixed with the smell of sick stopped Jess in mid-sentence.

‘Urgh! Mum, open the roof.’ Frankie said, holding her head out of the window.

Spotting a lay-by, Jessica pulled over to inspect the damage. It was everywhere – all over Joey, the seats and the bloody carpet. With nothing but a box of tissues, Jess did her best to clean up both her son and the car. She daren’t tell Ed. He’d only recently bought her the red Mercedes convertible as a birthday present and he wouldn’t be impressed to know it was now covered in spew.

‘Make sure you’ve got a sick bag with you when you take Joey out,’ Ed insisted.

Jessica had carried a couple originally, but Joey had already used them and, with a brain like a sieve, she had forgotten to replace them.

‘Now, come on, don’t cry,’ Jessica said, wiping away her son’s tears.

Poor little sod, it wasn’t his fault that he was a terrible traveller. Frankie loved being in the car and was fine, but Joey, unfortunately, was the opposite.

Jessica put down the roof and continued her journey towards Tesco. Her parents and brother were coming over this evening and she had promised to cook them a slap-up meal. She couldn’t wait to show her dad and brother around her new house. Her mum had already visited and had fallen head over heels with it, but her dad and brother hadn’t yet seen the finished article.

‘Oh, Jess, it looks like a mansion. It reminds me of one of them posh houses in them American films your father watches.’