Sylvia looked through the kitchen window to the garden where Jim and his father were sitting in the spring sun. A blue tit was flying in and out of a birdbox fixed to the side of the house. Strangely, she hadn’t thought what they’d do about that, but she supposed they’d have to move in together now they’d be a married couple with a baby on the way. A pang of sadness struck her. No more sharing with Maggie. She didn’t feel they’d been flatmates nearly long enough. ‘I suppose I will,’ she said. ‘But there’s time to think about that.’

‘Time? You’re getting married Saturday after next!’ Pamela’s voice was shrill. ‘And your pregnancy will go very quickly you know. There’s so much to do. You’ll have to think about what equipment you’ll need, which room you’ll use as a nursery. I expect you’ll want to decorate it. And don’t leave it too late – I was so tired in the last trimester of both my pregnancies I could hardly lift a finger!’

Sylvia followed her into the garden carrying the biscuits, the wake of Pamela’s perfume making her feel queasy. She settled into a wicker chair and watched as her future mother-in-law poured the tea. ‘I’ll be mother,’ Pamela said.

‘You are mother, Mother,’ Jim said, and the three of them laughed at the predictable in-joke. Sylvia feigned a smile. She wished Jim’s sister was here. But Jemima was probably still in India or Pakistan or wherever she’d run off to this time, as Pamela always put it. Why can’t she be more like her brother?

‘How’s work, Jim?’ Simon asked. ‘Callaghan keeping you in headlines?’

Sylvia watched Jim as he told his father about his latest features and the lawsuit the magazine was embroiled in. He’d come a long way since his internship. Sylvia felt a flush of pride – for him, for both of them. They’d done well since leaving Oxford. They’d fulfilled the expectations their tutors had of them. But now Jim was going to continue on his upwards trajectory while she stalled. In another couple of years their careers would probably look very different. Did he realise? Would it even have occurred to him how this could affect her?

‘And how about your job, Sylvia darling? Are they planning a good send off?’ Pamela said.

‘Oh, I haven’t told work yet.’

‘Yes, well I suppose it won’t do to tell them until after you’re married.’ She fixed Sylvia with a knowing smile. ‘But don’t leave it too late. They’ll be wanting to find a replacement, I suppose. And you may as well make the most of it. A few extra lie-ins, time off for doctor’s appointments. They should be going easy on you now.’

‘I don’t want them to go easy on me.’