Ellen's giving her a long hard look, the kind of look that would make most women want to rush home to change their outfits.

'Aren't you going to introduce us, darling?'

'Sorry, this is Patricia, and Phil.'

Phil nods, looking uncomfortable.

'Nice to meet you. Ellen Malone, and this is Harry. You're the first wife, I take it?'

Patricia looks rather shaken.

'I've seen you on the telly.'

'Possibly. But I'm trying to keep a low profile tonight. People get so over-excited. I'm sure you understand.'

Patricia looks impressed, but is clearly trying to hide it as she turns to me, giving me a quick glance that suddenly stops at my stomach.

Ellen smiles.

'I know, so exciting, isn't it? And not long now, is it, Jo? We were just talking about it, actually, wondering if Martin will get the barn conversion finished in time.'

Patricia doesn't look happy.

'What barn?' She looks furious as she turns to Martin. 'Christ. You didn't waste much time, did you?'

'It's '

'So lovely to have met you, Trish. And you, Phil. Have a lovely evening.' Ellen gives them one of her Big Smiles, and then fixes Patricia with one of her killer you-are-now-dismissed looks.

'Come on, Patsy. Just leave it, babes.'

But she can't. She's glaring at me, looking as hostile as you can in a skimpy shift dress and high-heeled sandals.

'When's it due?'

Suddenly I get a flash of inspiration, and reach across and take hold of Martin's hand.

'Not long now.'

She turns and walks back towards the doors, with Phil nodding at Martin before following her.

Martin can't stop smiling.

'Thanks so much, both of you that was so brilliant. I know it's petty, but the look on her face. God, it was so brilliant.'

'Can I have my hand back now?'

'What? Oh yes, sorry. It was just so great.'

He kisses me on the cheek.

'Thanks, Jo.'

'I don't think she's looking any more, Martin.'

'I didn't do it for her benefit.'

Ellen clinks her glass with Martin, and winks at me.

The drive home takes ages, mainly because I get lost. And Martin's drunk so much vodka he's barely coherent on the back seat next to Harry, who's fast asleep.

'Are you sure it's down here?'

'Yes. You turned left when I said right. Or it might be the other way round. Anyway it's bound to be down here. Or not.'

'Shut up, Martin.'

He laughs.

I finally find the barn, mainly by going back into Broadgate and then out again, so I don't have to try to follow Martin's daft directions.

'Here we are.'

'Who wants to see my barn?'

Harry wakes up.

'I do, I want to see it.'

Ellen sighs.

'Well, hurry up then ... Christ, I hope that's your bloody dog or we're in big trouble.'

There's a great deal of barking before Trevor appears and goes into a frenzy of jumping and tail-wagging, nearly knocking Martin over.

'Night, Martin.'

'Night, Ellen. We must do this again some time.'

'What, completely piss off your ex-wife?'

He laughs.

'No. Well, yes. But I meant a drink or something. I could make supper, when I've got a kitchen.'

'Great. Fix it up with Jo, and we'll be there.'

Harry walks up the path with Martin to see the barn, while Ellen and I wait in the car.

'You should have gone in with him, fixed up a second date.'

'Ellen, this was hardly a first date. And anyway I can't be doing dates when I'm seven and a half months pregnant. It's too ... something I don't know what exactly, but there definitely isn't a chapter on it in What to Expect When You're Bloody Expecting.'

'Well, there should be. Welcome to the real world. Pregnant by one man, out with another, and neither of them your husband. My baby girl has finally grown up. I'm so proud of you, darling.'

'Piss off.'

'I like him.'

'So do I. But I'm so hormonal I can't tell what's really me and what's not.'

'Well, he's definitely got potential, that's all I'm saying. Don't cross him off your list.'

'What is it with you and lists?'

'You're a fine one to talk.'

I'm drifting off to sleep a few hours later feeling tired but happy; it's been my best birthday in ages. Ever, really. Nick was always hopeless at presents. He got me a new ironing board one year, until Ellen found out and took him shopping. But this year has been completely different. The kids are happy, and I've got a fabulous new handbag and enough perfume to last me for years, and Ellen's invented a new recipe for hot chocolate with vodka that she swears is going to make her a multimillionaire. So it's been a top day all round really.

And seeing Martin vanquish the dreaded Patricia was pretty good too. And Ellen's right, I do really like him. But I'm not going to get into a panic about any of that now. I'm not. I'm going to think about it tomorrow. Or in a few months' time. Not now. I've got too many other things to worry about. Like how to head Gran off Operation Decorate before she goes into overdrive, and how I'm going to sort out the shop and get all the autumn stock in before the baby. My back's starting to ache again, and the baby's moving a lot tonight.

Actually, maybe I'd better make a list.

Chapter Seven.

September

Lights Camera Action

The boys are back at school, after a last-minute flurry of new school shoes and trousers, and things are feeling slightly calmer, thank God. Martin's been busy working on some freelance job so he can afford his new kitchen, and we're talking about fixing up supper with Ellen and Harry in a few weeks' time; which Ellen is insisting on calling a double date, because she knows it gets me into a panic. I've decided heavily pregnant people don't do dates, it's unseemly, so I'm thinking of it as supper, and that's fine.

Actually, I can't believe how quickly time is passing; they're even starting to talk about the Christmas play at school, and Archie's landed himself the role of an aubergine, although thankfully not in the Nativity; I don't think I could cope with Annabel's smugness at wangling a better role for Harry, and let's face it pretty much every part has got to be better than the aubergine. Each class is singing or acting out a poem, and Archie's class are making giant papier-mache models to wield on stage. Jack's class are doing 'Slinky Malinky', which Archie's already renamed 'Stinky Maplinky', and I'm supposed to be knitting him a black chenille cat, which I could do without, but Mrs Chambers was so keen I didn't really have the heart to say no.

'Now, are you sure it's all right? I can always re-book, you know.'

Elsie's got an appointment at the chiropodist's because her corns are playing her up.

'No, you go, Elsie.'

'My Martin might be in. I took him round a bit of fish last night on that new thermal plate I got in my catalogue. Ever so good, it is. And he said he might drop it in later.'

'OK.'

'He's always been fussy about fish. I had the devil of a job to get him to eat it when he was younger.'

'Right.'

'I did him a nice bit of cod in parsley sauce he likes that. Lord, look at the time I'd better be off.'

'OK.'

Dear God. Although cod in parsley sauce sounds quite nice, actually; maybe I could make some tonight. Archie will pick all the parsley out, but cod in parsley-chopped-very-fine sauce might work. Gran and Reg will probably be around. Operation Decorate is well under way, and after an initial bumpy start when we had to spend all day in the garden while Reg and Martin sanded the floor, closely followed by Gran in a face mask wielding the hoover and a damp cloth, it's all been fairly painless. And the floor looks fabulous. Jack's room is finished and he loves it, especially the fluorescent glow in the dark moons and stars, and Archie's room just needs the wallpaper border of space ships and it's done. I might try to stick it up today if Reg doesn't beat me to it.

I've been worried they'd overdo it, and I'd have someone from Age Concern showing me a red card, but they're both much better at pacing themselves than I am. There are lots of cups of tea and little rests, and Gran seems just as chirpy at the end of the day as she did in the morning. We've chosen new material at the market for curtains, so the spare room now has buttermilk walls, and white cotton curtains with yellow daisies, with blackout linings to encourage new small people to learn to sleep. And in between painting they've been having trips up to John Lewis at Bluewater so they can haunt the baby department and make the assistants demonstrate all the different prams and cots.

I've promised to go up with them soon for the final decision, but I'm trying to put it off for a bit longer because I've still got a few weeks yet and I'm nowhere near ready for pram rehearsals. I've booked my slot for my C-section, but I'm trying not to think about it. The midwife at the doctor's says everything's fine so I'd really like a bit more normal life before everything goes into baby mode.

I'm finishing off the tea-time window, which Olivia helped me with on Saturday. Polly was in too; she's taken to coming in early before the rest of the group arrive, and sitting knitting with Olivia. So far they've knitted themselves short skirts and now they're knitting bags, which is great because Polly's definitely the trendsetter girl in their year, so a few of the others are bound to follow suit. Even Elsie's been impressed at how well the group is working: it's like we're opening up the shop to a whole new generation, which reminds me, I'd better order in some more of the grey flecked tweed, which seems to be their current favourite.

Martin arrives with the thermal plate and matching lid twenty minutes after Elsie's left.

'You timed that well.'

He grins.

'She's driving me mad. She'll be doing me boiled eggs and soldiers next if I let her.'

'I love boiled eggs and soldiers. I haven't had them for ages.'

'I hate parsley sauce, and she knows it. Trevor liked it, though, but he'll eat anything. How's the new floor?'

'Lovely. We've moved the bed up against the wall now so the room looks much bigger.'

'Mum was saying you want a new shower, for the baby.'

'Sorry?'

'A new shower.'

He must mean the baby shower. Trust Martin to think a baby shower involves plumbing.

'Actually '