'Have you tried on your dress yet?'

Connie's definitely more excited about my bridesmaid's dress than I am.

'Not yet. I'm saving it for the big day.'

Actually, I'm trying to ignore the fact that I'll be appearing in public in a large pink tent with a matching jacket because deep down I know I'm going to look like a very big blancmange.

'It is pink, yes?'

'Yes.'

'Lovely.'

Oh God.

By the time everyone's arrived and we've made the teas and coffees and poured wine for anyone who wants it, I'm starting to feel calmer. Angela's showing us the latest pictures of baby Stanley, with her daughter Penny and her partner Sally looking on proudly; Stanley's developing a very impressive quiff for a nine-month-old and seems a particularly smiley baby.

Tina hands her back the packet of photographs.

'He's lovely, Ange. Isn't he getting big?'

'He's nearly walking too. He pulls himself up on their coffee table, and Sally's been so clever, she's padded all the corners with foam so he can't hurt himself. She's such a nice girl.'

Angela's been transformed over the past few months; when she first came to the group she was so timid she practically quivered when anyone spoke to her, but becoming a grandmother has changed all that. Her husband Peter, who takes his role as our local estate agent and pillar of the community very seriously, and is the kind of man who doesn't like women wearing trousers except for gardening, wasn't exactly thrilled to find himself with a pregnant daughter with a partner called Sally who's good at DIY. But Angela has simply ignored him, and goes to visit them all the time.

Cath smiles.

'Olivia was the same when she was a toddler, always banging into things.'

'Where is she tonight?'

'At home not speaking to anyone because we won't let her go hitchhiking in the summer.'

Linda puts her glass down.

'Where does she want to hitchhike to?'

'I don't think they know. Her and her friend Polly have just picked the thing they know will upset us the most. They're such a handful at this age; I thought toddlers were hard work but teenagers are lethal.'

Tina helps herself to another biscuit.

'I don't know how I'll manage if my Travis gets to be any more of a handful. He locked me in our conservatory last week, you know. He wanted to watch some film and I wouldn't let him, and I was watering the plants when he slid the doors shut and clicked the catch up. And that glass is ever so thick, you know. My Graham was on night shift and he gets so stroppy if I call him at work.'

We're all trying not to smile at the thought of Tina trapped in her own conservatory by her eight-year-old, although I'm sure Archie would be perfectly willing to lock me in ours, if we had one.

'I thought about ringing the police on the extension, but Graham's always going on about people calling them out for daft things and I bet the police are the same. So I sat down and went all quiet and he hates it when I do that. And then I told him I loved him. Well, I had to shout it through the glass, but I made my face go all sad and everything. And then he opened the doors and I could see he just wanted a cuddle. So I gave him one. What do you think? He gets himself in such a state, and he's promised never to do it again. Graham says I'm too soft on him, but he's even worse than me he gives in to him all the time.'

Connie nods.

'Mark is the same. Nelly has him wrapped round her fingers. She cries and he is finished.'

Cath pours herself some more tea.

'Yes, but everyone needs someone who always caves in when they cry, don't they? Imagine how awful it would be if nobody minded. Damn, I've gone wrong again.'

She hands me her knitting, which now has rather more holes in it than it should have: she's making a cream silk-mix cardigan with a tricky cable pattern on the sleeves, and by the time I've taken it back a few rows and helped her sort out the cable Linda needs help with picking up the stitches for the border on her poncho, and then Lulu wants me to help her choose some wool for a jumper for Vin.

I love evenings like this, when everyone's busy chatting and planning. Angela buys some navy cotton for a jacket for Stanley while Lulu makes some more tea.

'Does anyone want this last macaroon?'

'No, you have it, love got to keep your strength up. How are you feeling?' Tina's looking at my tummy, which always makes me feel a bit weird, not least because I keep forgetting I'm pregnant so I just feel like a bit of a Bunter.

'Fine, thanks.'

'That's good.'

'Lady Denby was in the shop today, congratulating me.'

Linda makes a huffing noise, and then tries to pretend she didn't, but Tina's noticed.

'We're all very pleased for you, aren't we, Linda?'

'Yes, of course. It's just ... oh, never mind.'

Angela coughs.

'If you've got something to say perhaps you should say it, Linda.' Angela's gone pink. Blimey: she's really getting the hang of her new assertiveness; maybe she's been on a course, or she's been reading some of the books Penny's given her.

'It's just I don't want my Lauren thinking it's all right to have a baby on your own, that's all. What with Grace bloody Harrison, and now Jo, well, it's like it's gone all glamorous or something, and it's not, not for girls like my Lauren. I'm sorry, but it's not.'

Everyone looks uncomfortable, particularly Linda.

Bugger.

'So you think you must be married to have babies, yes?' Connie's sounding quite sharp, and her eyes look darker than usual, which is never a good sign.

'No, of course not, not if you've got few quid behind you, but for girls like my Lauren it's a total disaster. She hasn't got the sense to come in out of the rain as it is, and the last thing she needs is a baby. She couldn't even look after that hamster we got her. It spent half its time under our settee before the bloody dog got it.' She's looking really upset now, and Tina puts her arm around her.

'I don't want her thinking she's got a choice, not at her age. When I was sixteen you had to be married if you wanted a baby, and that was that. And I know we're divorced now, me and her dad, but all the same I don't want her thinking a baby might be a laugh. That's what she said to me, you know, at the weekend, it might be a laugh, and she wasn't going to waste her time getting married to some wanker just so she could have a baby.'

'Well, she's got a point there, Lind. But I'm sure she was only winding you up.'

'Well, it bloody worked.'

Cath puts her knitting down.

'But we don't want to go back to the bad old days of back streets, or going into a home, do we?'

'No, of course not.'

'Then I think it all comes down to education, and talking to them. They need to know how much work babies are, that kind of thing. I want Olivia to have choices, but I want her to have all the facts too. I'm sure your Lauren is far more sensible than you think, Linda, and you talk to her all the time.'

'I know. Much good it does me.'

Angela's collecting up plates.

'Personally, I don't think there's anything wrong with women deciding to have babies on their own, not any more. I used to, but I think that was just a way of keeping women in their place. Penny's been explaining it to me.'

Tina smiles and nods.

'And the same goes for getting married, doesn't it? Marrying too young can be a life sentence too.'

Linda sighs.

'Tell me about it. God, when I think of the years I wasted it makes me sick. And I'm sorry, Jo. I didn't mean I wasn't pleased for you or anything. You know that, don't you?'

'Of course I do. Look, why don't you bring Lauren round for a few hours of nappy-changing when I have the baby, maybe midnight to six in the morning? Do you think that would help? Let her see the less glamorous side of it.'

'Oh would you, really? I'd be ever so grateful.'

Tina puts her arm around her again.

'Lind, she's only winding you up. Your Lauren's a lot more sensible than you think.'

'Well, I bloody hope so because I'm nowhere near ready to be a granny yet. Sorry, Ange, but I'm really not.'

After commiserating with me and Connie about the impending Summer Fayre In Victorian Costumes Disaster, we move on to talking about Gran's wedding and what everyone will be wearing, and the mood's much lighter as they're all leaving. Linda gives me a long hug, so I think she's okay, which is a relief. That's one of the drawbacks of small-town life, I suppose: everything you do becomes public property. Used by teenagers to taunt their mothers. Christ. I'm so not ready for teenagers.

I'm feeling extra tired when I'm washing up the cups with Connie and Lulu.

'You should go home and sleep. And don't let your mother upset you. Promise?'

'She's not Con. It's fine.'

'No, it is not. With the baby and the shop, sometimes I think it is too much. Some people you cannot please. So you stop trying.'

'Okay.'

'Brava.'

'God, I've just remembered, I've got to take her shopping tomorrow if her bloody case doesn't turn up.'

'No, Lulu will take her, or I will, not you. You will be in resting before the wedding.'

'Will I? Has someone told the boys?'

Lulu brings the last of the plates in.

'I'm happy to go shopping with her.'

She's so sweet sometimes, Lulu; naive, but sweet.

'I should probably warn you, she tells shop assistants off, all the time. And throws stuff on the floor if it doesn't fit. Actually, she's a total nightmare in shops.'

'Sounds like fun.'

'You're on.'

Vin's watching telly when we get home, surrounded by train track.

'Nice time knitting, girls?'

Lulu sits on him.

'Shut up, Vin. Nice time playing trains?'

'I've told you before, real men don't play trains, they facilitate their nephews' enjoyment.'

She kisses him.

'You're such a wanker, Vin. You know that, don't you?'

'Get off me, you big lump. I can't breathe.'

'Charmed, I'm sure.'

'Oh I get it, you've had your woolly women's group and now you're all fired up and ready to pick on me. Great. Well, you'd better keep it down because Mum and Dad are asleep, and she was in a foul mood last time I saw her, still in a strop about her outfit. Apparently it's orange. Can you wear orange to a wedding?'

'If you want to look like a nutter, yes. What time did the boys conk out?'

'Around eight-thirty.'

'Vin.'

'Just before ten.'

'Well, at least we might get a lie-in. Lulu's volunteered to take Mum shopping tomorrow if the case hasn't turned up. Talk about mission impossible. Try to prepare her, would you, so she knows what she's in for.'

Lulu smiles.

'I like the way she dresses it's unusual.'

Vin kisses her.

'I worry about you sometimes, Lou. You wait until Saturday she'll probably have a tiara on with flashing lights.'

'When can we see your outfit, Jo? I'm dying to see it.'