A week went by without them calling Jeannie, or hearing from her. Another week. A month. Two months. A postcard arrived, in her familiar scrawl. A photo of a tram on the front. Everything is on track down here HAHAHAHAHA. They laughed when they received it. They both meant to ring her or write back, of course. But again, the days flew by and turned into weeks. Months. Until one day, they came back home after long work and study days to a voice message on their phone.

‘Darlings, it is me. Your long-lost pal in Melbourne. Remember Melbourne, that shabby grey town all those miles away from your glamorous shiny Sydney? Remember me? Your old school friend? The one you used to share a dormitory with? I have some big news. Well, in fact, right now it is tiny news but the doctor tells me it’s going to get bigger and bigger. I’d prefer it stayed this size – it’d be easier to have it, if you know what I mean. Anyway, call me when you get the chance in your busy, busy lives, won’t you? I’ll be home after eight. Do you have my number? I was thinking you might have lost it, seeing as you never seem to ring me any more.’ She recited the number, then hung up.

They guessed immediately what she meant. They rang her that evening, put her on speakerphone.

Olivia spoke first. ‘Oh my God, Jeannie, you’re pregnant?’

She laughed. ‘I knew I hadn’t been cryptic enough. But that’s it? “Oh my God”? Not, “Oh congratulations, Jeannie, what wonderful news, a new human being is on the way!”’

Olivia and Maxie spoke over each other. ‘But how? Who’s the father? What are you going to do?’

Jeannie interrupted. ‘So many questions! How? Darlings, weren’t you paying attention at school? Remember those lessons, how babies are made?’ She began to speak in a low, ponderous tone. ‘“First the lady and man must get close to one another and remove their clothing. Then the man —”’

‘That’s not what we meant, Jeannie,’ Olivia said. ‘I mean, whose is it? Is it the Irish guy?’

‘The Irish guy? Which one? I’ve been so busy studying international relations since we saw each other. Let me think, there was also one from Spain, then Venezuela, then Thailand —’

‘Jeannie, stop joking,’ Maxie said. ‘This is serious. Is it Emmet, the Irish guy we met?’

‘No, it is not Emmet-the-Irish-Guy-You-Met. Actually, something bad happened with him.’

‘His fiancée found out about you and ordered him home?’