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The beach was busy; it was a sunny day and it was crowded with families, groups of teenagers and elderly couples. People always seemed happy on a beach. Apart from small children being roughly towel-dried by their mothers, that was.

Naomi certainly seemed at home on the beach. She was sitting with her toes in the water, chatting to another woman. As Jenny, Ruth and Gail drew near, the two of them looked up.

‘Oh, you must be the other mums!’ Naomi’s new friend looked at them appraisingly, making Jenny wonder what Naomi had been telling her. ‘I’m Gemma.’

Gemma seemed more like Antonia’s kind of person than Naomi’s, with her expensive-looking clothes and pair of designer sunglasses pushing back a sleek mane of hair. She was drinking San Pellegrino from a plastic wine glass.

‘Gemma lives around here,’ said Naomi. ‘Lucky woman.’

‘Well, in Shoreham actually, which is pretty close but not as expensive.’ Gemma was still scrutinising them. ‘It’s nice and… Timothy! Not too far!’

Jenny jumped and looked in the direction of Gemma’s yell to where a small boy wearing armbands was making a bid for a Channel crossing. She couldn’t quite believe that one day Henry would be as big as that. She had only just got her head around the idea that she had a baby; the thought that he would soon turn into a toddler and then into an actual boy was beyond her powers of imagination.

‘Naomi tells me that all your babies have just turned six months.’ Gemma turned back to them, keeping one eye trained on her mini-Olympian. ‘I’m sure it all seems very easy right now. Just wait until they’re running around like this one – you’ll have to have eyes in the back of your head.’

‘Is your little boy okay out there on his own?’ Jenny was slightly concerned for his safety. He seemed intent on getting as near to the water as he could. Although, after only a few minutes in his mother’s company, she could understand why.

‘Oh, yes.’ Gemma squinted up at Jenny. ‘Jenny, right? Naomi mentioned that you’re a bit of a worrier sometimes.’ She put her head on one side. ‘You’d enjoy it all a lot more if you just relaxed, you know.’

Jenny shot Naomi a look which, if it didn’t kill, would definitely leave a gaping wound. Relax? Like sitting there sipping your drink even when it looked like your child might be making an attempt to get to France? Naomi had the grace to look embarrassed.

Ruth was gazing out at the horizon. ‘I love the beach. I grew up on the coast. When I was young, I used to sit for hours looking out to sea, sorting out whatever teenage angst was going around in my head.’

‘Hear, hear. I’m trying to persuade Naomi to follow her heart and move here, nearer the sea,’ said Gemma.

Naomi hadn’t mentioned a desire to move to the coast before. Jenny frowned. Plus, John worked with his father; he wouldn’t be able to relocate here very easily. Naomi wasn’t still planning on leaving him, now that she was pregnant, was she? Although she hadn’t told John she was pregnant yet. She would, though, surely?

‘It would be fantastic,’ gushed Naomi. ‘I’d love to bring up Daisy near the sea. We’d be here every day.’ She glanced at Gail and looked away. ‘Maybe I should start to consider it.’

‘I’ll give you my mobile number just in case!’ Gemma was enthusiastic. ‘I know all the best nurseries and schools.’

‘Have you got older children, too?’ Jenny looked around. Where were they?

Gemma nodded. ‘Yes, I’ve got three boys. The other two are at home with their dad. Eighteen months between the first two and then less than a year between the second and the youngest.’

Less than a year? Blimey. Less than a year? That meant that the second one must have been less than three months old when she fell pregnant again. She must have been having sex whilst she was still on the maternity ward. Gail pulled an open-mouthed face at Jenny behind Gemma’s back, and Jenny tried not to smile.

‘It’s the best way to do it,’ Gemma spoke with authority. ‘Get the baby stage out of the way all at the same time.’

‘Really?’ Naomi asked, eagerly. ‘You think it’s good to have them close together? I’ve wondered whether a small or large age gap is better.’

‘Definitely a small age gap.’ Gemma had the usual assurance of the know-it-alls who can’t understand that anyone else could have a perfectly nice life doing things slightly differently from them. Jenny’s life had been plagued with people like this. The ‘My Life Is Perfect – You Need To Do The Same’ evangelists. It wasn’t only their arrogance that bugged her, it was their incomprehension about how their comments made you feel. When she had been single, she had had to put up with them on a regular basis. Being nudged by everyone at family celebrations. When are you going to find a nice young man and settle down? You’re not getting any younger, you know! This was even worse, though, with Ruth standing beside her, having to listen to this woman describe planning, conceiving and birthing a baby in less time than it took most people to decide to change their hair colour.

Gail caught Jenny’s eye again and winked. She put her head on one side in exactly the same way Gemma had done. ‘Is that why you’re having trouble getting up to help your son? Three pregnancies in three years, left you a bit…’ Gail motioned towards her nether regions, giving a very good impression of caring concern.

Jenny didn’t know where to look, but she was pleased to see Ruth also trying to conceal a smile.

Gemma seemed oblivious to Gail’s sarcasm. ‘No, no, I had no problems with any of my pregnancies or births. It’s all about a positive mental attitude, I think.’ Surprise, surprise, she’s one of those. Jenny felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck. Next, she would be announcing how some women make ‘a lot of fuss’ about childbirth. And then Jenny would be forced to push her under the next big wave.

Enough was enough: she couldn’t listen to this Gemma woman any more. ‘We really should be going soon, ladies. Antonia will be waiting for us back at the house.’

‘Good idea,’ agreed Gail. ‘There’s a bottle of wine in the fridge which is shouting my name.’ She put her hands either side of her mouth as a funnel, and changed her voice. ‘Gail! Drink me now!’

Gemma raised her head and turned to Gail with acute interest. ‘Gail? Are you the one who doesn’t have a—?’

Naomi jumped up, hurriedly. ‘Yes, yes, you’re right, we should go. It was great to meet you, Gemma. You’ve given me lots to think about.’

What exactly had Naomi been thinking?

‘I might try and get a quick nap,’ said Ruth, as they walked off the beach. ‘I’m sure that wine must have been double strength. I only had half a glass.’

‘We’ll allow you an hour and then we want you back.’ Jenny waved a finger at her. She was as keen as Gail to get the vino flowing. Some drunkenness would either generate a little fun for her ‘Girl About Town: On Tour’ feature, or would loosen their tongues enough to give her the big scoop for The Undercover Mother that might make Eva change her mind. Tonight had to be the night.