Elsie's got the kettle on.

'Why don't you go and sit down and we'll make the tea, dear.'

'OK.'

I lit the fire earlier; it's getting chilly in the evenings now, so I'm sitting watching the flames when Cath and Olivia come upstairs with Polly, who's wearing the new grey-tweed skirt she knitted, over black leggings with ballet shoes and a stretchy black top. She looks fabulous, and everyone is admiring the skirt when Maggie arrives.

'I remember wearing something like that years ago. Of course there was a lot less of me then.'

Linda laughs.

'There was a lot less of all us, Maggie, but me and Tina are on this new diet now, the plate one.'

Tina nods.

'It's ever so simple you eat like normal, but on a small plate. I've lost three pounds.'

Linda pokes her tongue out at Tina.

'And I've put on two. It's amazing how much you can fit on a small plate if you're really trying.'

Elsie's busy bustling about. I think she's quite excited; she doesn't usually come to the group, which is probably why they're so relaxed. She's already given Connie a shocked look when she started pouring out glasses of wine.

Cath sits down next to me.

'Are we waiting for Angela?'

Linda passes her a glass of wine.

'She said to start. She'll be along soon. She's had to go into Maidstone to drop Peter off at some council thing. Open this one first.' She hands me a parcel wrapped in shiny silver paper. 'It's from me and Tina.'

Half an hour later there's wrapping paper all over the table, and all sorts of gorgeous baby kit in a pile in front of me. They've really thought about it all, and Connie's gone out to her car and returned with a Moses basket with a white cotton frill, and two sets of soft flannel sheets, one with ducks on and one with elephants. It's perfect, and she's knitted a sweet little blanket in soft cotton to go on top, in caramel-and-cream squares. I've got vests and sleepsuits and more knitted blankets and cardigans and hats than one baby could possibly need, and Elsie's spent hours on a beautiful shawl, and a peach pram set with satin ribbon rosettes, which I think we might be saving for our first trip into the shop. Maxine and Grace have sent a very smart blue-and-white-striped changing bag, with the pockets full of little tubes of posh baby cream and wipes and two tiny old-fashioned flannelette baby nightgowns with lambs embroidered on the front.

I'm pretty close to tears by the time we're finished.

'It's all so lovely. Thank you so much, I'm '

Linda gets up.

'Don't start, love, or you'll have us all going. And anyway, I've been waiting for the cake and I don't think I can last much longer. Connie?' Connie nods and goes into the kitchen as Linda turns the big light off. 'We thought we'd start a new tradition, and do you a Happy Nearly Birth Day cake. You've got to blow the candles out and make a wish, love.'

Everyone leans forward as Connie puts the cake, covered in flickering candles, on the table in front of me.

'Let's all make a wish.'

Chocolate and chestnut with bits of meringue, my absolute favourite.

'Tell him thanks for me, Connie it's lovely.'

'He didn't put the amaretto in, so there's something else, only I've forgotten.'

We spend a happy ten minutes eating cake and trying to identify the mystery ingredient, until Connie remembers it's home-made quince jam, which sounds like it wouldn't be nice but is absolutely delicious, as the conversation moves towards babies. Cath annoys Olivia by remembering bringing her home from hospital and staying up all night to make sure she was still breathing, and Linda tells us about the time she left baby Gemma outside the shop when she was a few weeks old.

'I'd got right back home before I realised. It was awful; I'd bought some buttons for a cardigan and I put them on the kitchen table and then, God, I've never run so fast in all my life. And your gran was so nice about it. I was beside myself and there was your gran walking her up and down inside the shop, standing by the window so she could see me, patting her on the back, and Gemma was loving it, looking round at everything, and your gran just said thanks, that was kind of you, I've been wanting a cuddle, and then she handed her back to me, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Made me feel like she didn't think I was the worst mother ever. I've never forgotten it.'

'I did that with my Travis too. I left him in his car seat in our porch and I was halfway down the road before I remembered. Thank heavens there wasn't anyone behind me. I've never been that good at reversing, but I was back up our drive in about three seconds.'

Linda pours Tina some more wine. Actually, the only time I really miss a glass of wine is at our Stitch and Bitch groups.

'I did something similar with Jack once. He was teething and we hadn't had much sleep, and Nick thought I'd put him in his car seat, and I thought Nick had, so we'd got halfway down the road before we realised he was still in his playpen in the living room. And Nick just got out of the car and ran back, down the middle of the road. He left the engine running and everything.'

Olivia and Polly seem slightly shocked by our tales of maternal malfunctions.

'Does everyone do it then, forget they've got a baby?' Polly's licking her finger and dabbing it into the cake crumbs on her plate.

Tina smiles.

'No, love, not really, but you get so tired you'd forget your own head if it wasn't on your shoulders.'

Linda nods.

'You were a terror for sleeping never went more than an hour until she was eighteen months. Oh, sorry, Jo.'

'It's fine, Linda. Archie was the same. So if everyone could keep an eye out, outside shops, that would be great.'

Gran's thrilled when Connie and I get home and show her all the presents.

'Well, isn't that lovely, and look at Elsie's shawl. It must have taken her hours.'

'I know, and look, there's blankets for the Moses basket and a baby bath and everything.'

'Well, thank heavens you've got a few bits to start you off. I was beginning to think this baby would be wearing a sheet for the first few days, and sleeping in a drawer. Mind you, your mum slept in the bottom drawer of my big bedroom set and it didn't do her any harm. So I expect we'd have managed.'

'Did she? Why?'

'She was early, and I was trying to get old Mrs Butterworth to let me swap bedrooms. We were in the back one, freezing cold it was, and she was keeping the big front one for her spare room, miserable woman. I hated her so much by the end, you know. I know you shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but I did. Anyway, by the time I'd got my way and moved my things into the room there wasn't time to buy a cot. I was moving a wardrobe the day before she was born.'

'So you didn't have everything neatly folded in drawers then?'

'I'd made a few things; you made most of it in those days. But no, I wasn't exactly ready, pet. So I suppose we know who you take after.'

I'm woken by someone knocking on the front door at a quarter to six in the bloody morning. Christ. The postman's not usually this early, and the milkman doesn't knock. Maybe it's another parcel from Vin and Lou by some special wake-you-up-at-the-crack-of-dawn delivery service.

It's Graham in his fireman's uniform, holding a yellow plastic helmet in his hands, looking exhausted.

'I'm sorry, love, but there's been a fire.'

'What?'

I turn to look back into the hall, a surge of adrenalin hitting me as I head for the stairs to get the boys. A fire. How could I have missed the house being on fire? Christ. I've got to get the boys.

'No, sorry, not here, love, at the shop, I should have said. You'd better come and see.'

'A fire? At the shop?'

'You idiot, Graham you've half terrified her. Get out of the way. It's only the shop, love, it's not that bad. Well, it is quite bad, but try not to panic. Graham will show you, and we've called your gran so I expect she'll be here any minute.'

I hadn't noticed Tina standing behind Graham, with Travis looking half-asleep with his anorak hood up, wearing his Batman slippers. She's got her hair in giant foam curlers; I always wondered how she got it so curly.

'Come in, I should probably... '

Actually, I don't know what I should probably be doing.

Tina puts her arm round me. I'm having flashbacks to the policeman standing on the doorstep at our old house telling me about Nick's crash. Oh God.

'Let's get the kettle on. You sit down; it'll be fine. Nobody's hurt and that's all that matters. Travis, would you like to watch telly, very quiet, mind?'

He nods.

'Graham, sort him out with some cartoons, would you? Nice cup of tea, that's what we need.'

The boys are still asleep when I check on them as I'm getting dressed. I must remember to test the smoke alarm on the upstairs landing; the one in the kitchen is always going off when I make toast, but I haven't checked the one on the upstairs landing for ages.

'How bad is it?'

Tina pours me a cup of tea and looks at Graham.

'It's just the top floor really. The roofs gone in a couple of places, but downstairs is fine.'

God, I've just thought, I bet it was the fireplace. We had the fire on last night for the Stitch and Bitch group and I was so busy getting all the baby things back into the car I must have forgotten to put the fireguard across properly.

'Mum's shop has the most damage, especially her storeroom. I've been telling her for ages to get that wiring sorted we should have done it for her. Four grown-up sons and one of them in the fire service and not one of us got round to doing it. She's ever so upset.'

'Are you sure it was wiring, Graham? It might have been the fireplace in our shop, you know. I usually put the guard up but maybe I forgot last night.'

'No love. It started above Mum's shop. This is unofficial, of course, there'll be a report, but I can tell you now, it was definitely electrical. When your gran gets here I'll walk round with you and show you, but it could be worse, honestly, you'll see.'

Tina tuts.

'Apart from the water.'

'Well, yes, Tina, we do have to use water, what with trying to put the fire out.'

'I'm only saying. Why they have to go and make everything soaking wet is beyond me. It does more damage than the fire half the time.'

'I'll make sure to tell that to the boys. Any bright ideas on how we're meant to put the fires out, though, with us not using the water?'

'Shut up, Graham.'

Gran's wearing her dressing gown when they arrive; she's dressed, but she's put her dressing gown on instead of her coat.

'Oh pet, what a thing to happen. We came straight round. How bad is it? Have you seen? We drove round the oneway system so we didn't see.'

'I don't know yet, Gran.'

'You go and have a look and come back and tell me. I'll stay here with the boys. Reg, you go with her. I don't think I can face it.'

'All right, Mary.'

Tina stays with Gran, and Reg and I walk down the hill with Graham. As we turn the corner I can see the fire engine, parked in the entrance to the side road.

Graham's put his helmet back on.

'Lucky it's just your two shops really, or it could have been much worse.'

Reg takes hold of my hand.

'Yes, I suppose it is.'

There's a narrow side road between Mrs Davis's florist's shop and the rest of the parade; an access road for deliveries. Most of the shops have small back yards; her shop has got one too. In fact the only shop without a back door is ours since we're right on the corner. The lights from the fire engine are still flashing.

Stan from the greengrocer's is standing on the pavement by our window.

'It was me who called them, I'd had pickled onions for my tea and they always play me up, so I woke up around four and that was when I saw the smoke.'

Reg is looking in through the window.

'Thank heavens you did, Stan. It doesn't look too bad, you know, love.'

It looks pretty bad to me: the glass in the door is smashed, and there's water everywhere.

Elsie's standing to one side with Mrs Davis.

'Isn't it dreadful?' She's obviously rather thrilled with the excitement of it all. 'And I've been thinking, we could all have been killed, you know, if it had started while we'd been open. Those stairs would be a death trap.'

'We'd have smelled the smoke and been out long before that, Elsie. There's a smoke alarm in the kitchen, don't forget.'

'I suppose.'

'I'll never forgive myself. I'm so sorry, dear.' Poor Mrs Davis looks very shocked and cold.

'Please, it was an accident. I'm just relieved it wasn't my fireplace that started it.'

Elsie looks annoyed; I think she was hoping for a bit more tension.

'I'll pay for any damage, of course.'

'Please don't worry about that now. I'm sure the insurance will cover it.'