'Martin was just talking to me about the website, Elsie. I think it'll be great for business.'

If she finds out he's told me about the barn before her, I'll never hear the end of it.

'Can't see the point of it myself. Not many of our customers have got computers, you know.'

'Yes, but that's the point, Mum. It'll help you get new ones. Anyway, I'd better be off, Jo. I'll put a few more ideas down on paper for you, and then show you.'

'Lovely.'

He leans forward and kisses me again, like it's something he does to everybody, which he doesn't. People don't really go in for social kissing round here. But still, you've got to admire his nerve. He winks at me.

'I'll see you later, Mum. What time will you be back? Only I've got something I want to talk to you about.'

'Oh yes, what's that then?'

'It's private, Mum. Nothing to worry about, just an idea I've had I want to talk through with you.'

She smiles, clearly mollified by the idea that it's not something he wants to talk about in front of me.

'Well, I'll be back by quarter to six. I've got some lamb chops in for tea.'

He goes off whistling, and Elsie smiles.

'I'll just pop the kettle on, shall I, dear?'

'Lovely.'

Clever old Martin.

I'm sitting in the car outside school looking at my scan picture again. I'm a few minutes early and I don't want to risk standing in the playground without back-up in case Annabel collars me and sticks me on another one of her bloody lists. Connie's at home with Mark, wallpapering their spare bedroom, so I'm picking up Nelly and Marco today. She's really excited about her mum and dad coming over from Italy, and she wants everything perfect for them, so we've battled with Gran's sewing machine and made new curtains in the shop, which took us nearly a whole afternoon with Elsie nipping up with handy hints, and now she's papering and painting. God, I suppose I'll have to start on some of that too now, and turn the spare room into a bedroom for the baby. Still, first things first; I'll have to work out how I'm going to tell the boys, before I start worrying about bedrooms.

There's a knock on the car window that makes me jump, and of course it's bloody Annabel.

'Hello, you were looking very thoughtful.'

I walk across the road with her.

'Just running through a few ideas for the shop, Annabel.'

'It must be such a strain, running your little shop. I don't know how you do it, you working mums, I really don't. I never seem to have enough hours in the day as it is. Of course I do have very high standards, I do accept that. But still.'

I try a smile, which she ignores, and now I'm panicking that she saw me looking at the scan picture; I'm trying to remember if I'd put it back into my diary before she knocked on the window, and I'm fairly sure I did, but still.

'Well, I must get on, PTA business calls. Mr O'Brien has asked me to look into more sports equipment, so I've got brochures arriving I need to check on. So important, proper equipment. We take Harry to a marvellous gym, private, of course, but well worth it; he's doing so well in his martial arts class, they want to move him up a group. You should take your boys, although the classes are mainly on Saturday, so I suppose that might be a problem for you, being in the shop. Anyway, must dash.'

Bloody hell, so now I've got to feel guilty we don't belong to a gym, on top of everything else. Although I'm not sure I'd really want them learning martial arts in any case; bedtime is tricky enough already without finding myself overpowered by two small people in baggy white pyjamas.

After sausages and chips for tea, which I've chosen in the hopes of building up some goodwill, even though the oven chips always weld themselves to the baking tray, they're both sitting watching cartoons relatively peacefully when Gran arrives to show me her latest batch of cruise brochures. Actually, maybe now would be a good time to show her my scan picture it'd certainly take her mind off cabin sizes. And if bloody Annabel Morgan did catch a glimpse in the car there'll probably be an emergency PTA communique circulating tomorrow, so it might be handy if she already knew.

'You're looking peaky. Are you sure you're not coming down with anything, pet?'

'No, I'm fine, Gran.'

'Good.'

Here goes.

'There was something I wanted to tell you, though.'

'I knew it.'

'Knew what?'

'There's something wrong, isn't there? I knew it Mrs Marwell saw you at the doctor's a couple of weeks ago, and again last week. She told Betty, and she said you looked ever so pale. What is it?'

Bloody hell, they're like the secret service. Thank God none of them have really got the hang of mobile phones or they'd be group-texting video snippets backwards and forwards.

'I'm fine, Gran, honestly.'

'But?'

'There's no but.'

'Josephine, this is your gran you're talking to. I can see it on your face.'

Bugger, I'm really mucking this up.

'I'm not ill, Gran. It's just, well, I'm pregnant.'

There's a pause, and then she smiles.

'Well, thank heavens for that. I've been that worried. But are you sure, pet? It could be the change, you know. We start very early in our family.'

I reach for my diary and hand her the scan picture.

'Well, bless my soul. And how did that happen then? You don't have to say if you don't want to. He's not anyone local, is he?'

'No, Gran.'

'Well, that'll make things easier. You know what people are like round here, putting two and two together and coming up with six. So will he be moving down here then?'

'I don't think so, Gran. He's just someone I met, nothing long term... God, this is embarrassing. I'm not in the habit of doing this sort of thing, you know. In fact never.'

'I know you're not, pet. Now don't you go upsetting yourself. What's done is done, and we'll manage. Let me see the picture again. Isn't that lovely. Look at those tiny fingers, like little pearls. Actually, I think he looks a bit like our Archie.'

'So you think it's a boy then?'

'Oh yes, you're carrying like you did with the boys, but it's what you think that matters, pet.'

'Well, it was a bit of a shock at first, but now I've got used to the idea I'm pleased. I really am. And I feel very lucky. I never thought I'd have another baby, but now, well, I'm very pleased.'

I haven't realised how true this is until I've actually said it out loud. Nick and I never talked about having another baby. I knew he wouldn't be keen so we never discussed it, and I sort of shelved the idea, without ever realising that I'd wanted one.

'Well, isn't that grand? And how are the boys taking it?'

'I haven't told them yet. I wanted you to be here.'

She smiles.

'Well, there's no time like the present.'

'Yes, but what if they're upset? They've had so much to cope with, Gran, and I don't want them worrying. Maybe I should wait a bit.'

'You don't want secrets, pet. They're terrible things, secrets are.'

'I know, and it probably won't seem real to them, not until there's actually a baby. OK, let's tell them. I've got strawberry ice cream in the fridge I thought it might help.'

'Good idea, pet.'

The strawberry ice cream goes down very well, and they're both remarkably calm about the idea. In fact they're both much more interested in getting back to their cartoons, although they are unanimous that under no circumstances am I to have a girl. Apart from that, they seem fine about it. But I'm still bracing myself for Questions later.

Gran shows me her cruise brochures and goes off to tell Reg the good news, and it's nearly half-past eight by the time I'm getting them into bed.

'Night, Archie.'

'Night, Mum. And Mum?'

'Yes?'

'If you have a baby, will we get presents? When Seth Johnson's mum had their baby he got a present. He got a bike.'

'Did he? Well, we'll have to see about that.'

He claps his hands.

'And I won't be the baby so Jack can't call me a baby any more, can he? Ever. And I already know what I want for my present.'

'Oh yes, what's that?'

'A dog. Just like Trevor.'

'Night, Archie.'

'Night, Mum. And will I get my fish for my birthday, do you think?'

'I don't know, Archie. We'll have to wait and see.'

I've already got him two goldfish in a small tank, which Gran's keeping in her kitchen. I've been telling him one of the reasons we can't have a dog is because we need to practise on smaller pets first, so he's added goldfish to his birthday-wish list after I vetoed a snake or anything with fur. I've bought him a starter tank, and a little pirate's chest that bubbles air through the water, so I'm hoping the fish will survive at least a few weeks.

'I really want them, more than anything, I do, and then you can see how sensible I am and we can have a dog.'

'Night, Archie.'

Jack's fussing with the knitted blanket I made for him when we first moved here as I'm tucking him in. He likes it folded over his duvet, but only a couple of inches.

'Put it on again properly, how you do it, please, Mum.'

'Better?'

'Yes.'

'Night, love.'

'Mum?'

Here we go again.

'Yes, Jack.'

'You know the new baby?'

'Yes.'

'Well, is it leftover, from when Dad was alive?'

Christ, I wasn't expecting that one.

'No, darling.'

'So it'll have a different dad then?'

'Yes.'

'But not living with us. Not like Dad?'

'No.'

He's very quiet.

'I'm sorry, love. Does it all feel a bit confusing?'

He starts to cry, silently like he does, as I kneel down by his pillow and put my arms round him.

'What's the matter, sweetheart?'

'It's just I thought he might be coming back. Not really. You know. Just. Well, a bit.'