'Right. Well, thanks so much; it's really generous of you, and the knitting is beautiful.'

'My pleasure.'

Maxine smiles.

'I'll go down and check with Ed, Grace. Is there anything you want me to ask him?'

'Yes, what the fuck is he doing about the magazine thing? I'm not giving them Lily's birthday party, so he'll have to think of something else.'

'Sure.'

She sips her juice as Maxine closes the door.

'I had a visitor at the weekend.'

'Oh yes?'

'Daniel.'

'Oh yes?'

'I think your pep talk really hit home.'

'Did it? Sorry about that. I know you said not to mention anything, but when I saw him I couldn't resist. What did he say?'

'I'm not really sure.'

She smiles.

'That sounds like Daniel. His type always like to be enigmatic'

'No, it was good, actually, I think. He was talking about the baby and how he wants to be involved, only he hasn't worked out how yet.'

'So he wants you to sort it all out for him?'

'Kind of.'

'And are you?'

'No.'

'Good. Last thing you need is another child to look after.'

'I think he's a bit worried about how Liv will react.'

'I don't blame him. She's definitely a girl who likes to be the centre of attention. Speaking as one who knows the type.'

I put my cup down.

'Grace, I know I'm probably being stupid, but you don't think she'd suddenly decide she wants the baby, do you?'

'Not her style, darling; earth mother to the world is far too serious for her, but if there's any hint of it let me know, and I'll sort you out with the right lawyers. By the time they've finished with her nobody will let her have a budgie, let alone a baby. Okay?'

'Thanks.'

'Christ, men are so useless: if they're not forgetting to tell you they've got a baby on the way, they're forgetting to tell you about their ex-fucking wife, who's not actually an ex. I wonder why we bother sometimes, I really do. More tea?'

'Please. How's the filming going?'

'Taking for ever as usual, but looking good so far. And Jean-Luc is going to be top of everyone's wish list next year, that's for sure. He's in London, seeing his lawyer at the moment.'

'Maxine mentioned something about that. I'm sorry, it sounds awful.'

'It's his own fault, but I don't want it becoming a story, so it needs sorting. Jesus. I thought the French were supposed to be discreet. Still, that's his problem, not mine. I've got more important things to worry about, like Lily's first birthday.'

'You must let me know what she'd like.'

'Pretty much anything tacky that makes an annoying noise. She's got terrible taste, like her mother.'

'Grace, you've got impeccable taste.'

She smiles.

'I thought I'd invite a few kids round, for an old-fashioned tea party. What do you think?'

'How many?'

'Fifty-three, so far.'

'Fifty-three one-year-olds? Dear God.'

She laughs.

'Some of them will be older your boys and a few others, but most of them will be under two. What sort of help will we need?'

'Armed assistance might be good.'

'I thought a Winter Wonderland theme. Fairground rides, and a magic show, with rabbits she's very into rabbits.'

'That sounds lovely, but you'll need to think about allergies. Some of the kids are bound to have a problem with fur.'

She picks up the phone.

'Max, check out allergies, would you? If too many of them have got them cancel the rabbits. And I was thinking earlier, let's find out about snow she's never seen snow. No, tell him not to leave until I've spoken to him.' She turns to me.

'Hang on here a minute, would you, Jo I've got to go and talk to Ed. Max, tell him I'm coming down, and you come up and talk to Jo about the party. Get all her top tips.'

Maxine sits down and pours herself a glass of water.

'What's the green stuff Grace was drinking?'

'Vitamins and grass, basically.'

'Really?'

'Special grass, you understand. Special film-star skin-boosting grass.'

'Does it taste nice?'

'Absolutely disgusting, and if I told you how much it cost you'd probably faint.'

'Would ordinary grass do?'

She laughs.

'No, or we could make a bloody fortune.'

'Where have you got to so far on the party?'

'Pass.'

'I'm happy to help.'

'She wants a Big Production.'

'Okay.'

'I mean Epic'

'Right.'

'I've got quotes for the fairground, and entertainers, and inflatables for the pool, but I still need to source lifeguards. And now she wants snow.'

'Anyone under two will only try to eat it ... I might be able to help on the lifeguards front though. We're having a swimming party for Jack's birthday on Saturday. Come, if you like I think I mentioned it to you ages ago. Lots of screaming and yelling and everyone gets soaked.'

'Yes ... think I'll pass on that one, thanks, but I've got a present for him downstairs.'

'Oh, Max, you shouldn't have.'

'No problem.'

'I'll ask them about renting lifeguards, if you want '

'Could you? That would be brilliant. And food-wise Sam and I were thinking a traditional English tea, with canapes for adults, and champagne.'

'Sounds lovely, but just do the usual stuff. The kids won't eat anything too fancy and their parents will be too busy trying to make sure the kids don't break anything.'

'Most of them will be bringing nannies so they can circulate. I've already had emails asking about arrangements for arriving by helicopter. So apart from the normal ones like you, and the make-up woman from the film Grace really loves her they'll all be nightmare high-maintenance types.'

'God. Just don't have anything with nuts in.'

'I think we're way past the point of no return on that one.'

It's Saturday morning and I haven't heard a peep from Daniel, or Martin, come to that. But it's Jack's birthday party today, and somehow I've managed to land myself with Fiona and James and the girls coming to lunch, so I've been concentrating on that. I spent most of yesterday getting the house tidy, ready for Fiona, who seems to have appointed herself as some sort of annoying Family Liaison Officer. I think Nick's mother is still sulking about the baby. I'm guessing I was meant to spend the rest of my life wearing black as a testament to her marvellous son, which is fair enough, I suppose, but she's such a terrible old snob I'm sure her real problem is what the snooters at the Golf Club will think of her son's widow being seen with a new baby, and no new wedding ring.

When Fiona rang on Thursday to announce they're popping in with a present for Jack, she hinted something about us visiting Nick's grave, like that's my top way to spend Jack's birthday weekend, when he's only just stopped having his bad dreams and the dry skin on his elbows is almost healed up.

I'm calling Ellen for moral support, and trying to tidy the living room at the same time.

'What time are they arriving?'

'Around twelve, I think.'

'Give them a sandwich, thanks for the gift, bugger off. You can turn them round in an hour tops.'

'Ellen, I can't bundle them out of the door that quickly it's a long drive.'

'You didn't invite her. It's her own fault.'

'I know, but I don't want her going home saying it was all a shambles.'

'So this is about her telling the old bag mother-in-law that you're doing brilliantly then?'

'Kind of.'

'Get over it. It's not going to happen.'

'I know.'

'How's Dovetail?'

'I haven't seen him. Elsie says he's got a big job on, in Birmingham.'

'Never mind, darling I still love you. Try to be cool about it. You're too pregnant now to let things get to you.'

'I know, but if one more person tells me I've got a lot on my plate I think I might slap them.'

'I'd love to see you giving Fiona a good slap. Damn, I'm supposed to be in sodding Cardiff later, or I'd be down there like a flash.'

'Cardiff?'

'Don't ask. Part of our Isn't Our Country Great bollocks. So tell me more about this plate thing?'

'People keep saying you've got a lot on your plate, and smiling, like they're being friendly, which makes me feel like I must look like a total gibbering wreck or they wouldn't keep saying it. Like I don't already know exactly how much I've got on my sodding plate, thank you very much. Actually, it's more of a full dinner service.'

'With salad plates?'

'Yes.'