On the drive back to La Cour des Roses, I sighed heavily at the thought of Mum coming back from the château and regaling me with the many things she thought needed to be discussed. If she mentioned exchanging vows one more time, I wouldn’t be responsible for my actions.

As I skirted the edge of town, it occurred to me that I could drop in at Jonathan’s to see how he and Madame Dupont were getting on. I was still worried about what she’d said at the weekend about not staying for too long, and Jonathan’s confirmation of that yesterday. The fact that such a visit delayed me getting back to my mother never crossed my mind, of course.

It was Madame Dupont who opened the door of Jonathan’s little blue terraced house. Glancing around his open-plan lounge and kitchen as I stepped in, the transformation took me aback. Jonathan had previously got by with the ministrations of his rather limited cleaner and occasional spring-cleaning offers from friends. But in the short time she’d been here, Madame Dupont had made huge inroads. Everything was neat and sparkling, even if it was old and in need of renovation, and fresh flowers on the mantelpiece gave the place a real feeling of home.

‘You two sit in the yard. I will bring thé au citron,’ Madame Dupont declared.

Jonathan and I did as we were told, settling ourselves in his little back yard full of ceramic pots riotous with colour. His patio furniture had been scrubbed, I noticed, and the crazy paving swept. We could hear the perpetrator of those deeds filling the kettle and slicing lemon.

‘Wow, this place has had quite a face lift!’ I commented.

Jonathan grinned. ‘Great, isn’t it? I keep telling her not to do so much, but she seems determined to repay me. I think she misses coming to La Cour des Roses as often, and this has given her a project to sink her teeth into.’

‘Has she said any more about when she might leave?’

‘No, thank God, but …’

‘What are you two whispering about?’ Madame Dupont asked cheerfully as she came out and placed the tray on the little table, then sat down with us.

Switching back to French, I quickly said, ‘I was admiring the house. You’ve done an amazing job, Madame Dupont.’

She beamed, pleased at the compliment. ‘I have only done the downstairs so far. There is still the upstairs to tackle.’

I glanced at Jonathan with a look that said, ‘That means she’ll stay at least another week or so’.

‘So, why this lovely surprise visit?’ Madame Dupont asked as she poured the tea.

Urgh. I could hardly say I was checking up on them. ‘I had an unpleasant encounter with a client, and I felt like being with friends.’ I told them all about Margaret Saunders.

Madame Dupont nodded wisely. ‘These holidaymakers can be a pain.’

I laughed. ‘They keep us employed, though.’

‘Your parents arrived safely?’ Jonathan asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

I let out an exaggerated sigh. ‘Indeed. My mother went to inspect the château today. Again.’

Jonathan chuckled. ‘Your visit to us wouldn’t have anything to do with avoiding her, would it?’

I laughed. ‘You caught me.’

Madame Dupont tutted. ‘You are welcome here, whatever the reason.’ She studied me shrewdly, making me squirm in my seat. ‘If your mother is making you unhappy, you should stand up to her, Emie. It is your wedding day.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Don’t you start. Alain gave me a lecture on that very subject last night!’

At that, she frowned. ‘I hope your mother is not causing you two to fall out?’

‘No. What Alain said made sense, but I don’t think this week is the time to do it. There’ll be plenty of time and reason to do it soon, though.’ With a sigh, I told them about my parents’ retirement plans, at which Madame Dupont cackled loudly.

‘Ah, Emie, you are not sure you like this idea, eh?’

‘Hmmph. I’ll get used to it, I suppose.’

The doorbell sounded, and Madame Dupont stood. ‘I’ll go.’ When she came back, she was huffing and puffing. ‘These people who bother you on your doorstep about things you don’t want and can’t afford. Disgraceful! I told him not to call again, Jonathan.’

Jonathan winked at me. ‘Seems I have my own personal guard dog, now, too.’

Seating herself again, Madame Dupont reached into the pocket of her apron and placed a tiny, tattered leather box in front of me, then took my hand.

‘Emie. I am still so sad about the favours for your wedding. I have tried to think of something else I could do for you, but with the fire and moving around so much …’ She shrugged off any self-pity. ‘These earrings were my grandmother’s. I thought they would go with the lace on your dress. I know you will already have something, but you are welcome to wear these if you would like to, and you can keep them anyway. I want you to have them.’

Swallowing back tears, I prised open the little box. Nestled in ancient red silk was the perfect pair of antique earrings – delicate, silver filigree teardrops, embedded with tiny marcasites.

I thought about the simple dangling pearls I’d planned to wear and immediately dismissed them. ‘Oh, Madame Dupont, these are perfect! Thank you so much!’ I reached over and hugged her tightly.

She accepted the hug, then pulled away and patted my hand. ‘I am glad you like them. Now, isn’t it time you were getting back to your mother?’

Feeling over-emotional, I said my goodbyes and drove back to the guesthouse with my glorious gift stowed carefully in the glove compartment.

Mum, Dad and Jeanie were piling into the kitchen as I pulled up in the courtyard.

Rupert filled the kettle for them. ‘Good day?’

Mum opened her mouth to expound when we heard an angry shout and looked out of the window.

Gabriel had opened the gîte door and was thinking about escaping, but he hadn’t got ten yards before Adrien caught him by the collar. Sabine came out to give him a stern reprimand in French.

Both parents looked fraught, Adrien’s face taut, his mouth a thin line, and Sabine’s cheeks flushed with anger. They’d looked fraught since they arrived, come to think of it. I knew Gabriel and Chloe could be a handful sometimes, as all small children could be, but even so, it seemed the effect of their child-free week away (two, in Sabine’s case) had already worn off. They were great kids, and Adrien and Sabine were usually so busy at work, I’d have thought they would want to make the most of this family time together.

I weighed up offering to take the kids off their hands for half an hour to give them a chance to regroup, versus a cup of tea with my parents, listening to Mum spout about the château and the reception.

The kids won, hands down.

‘I’ll take the children for a walk,’ I suggested. ‘Give their parents a break.’

When my mother looked mutinous, Rupert jumped in. ‘Gloria’s due for a walk anyway, Emmy, if you’re willing.’

Across the courtyard, when I knocked on their door and explained the scheme, Sabine grabbed at it like a drowning woman after a life raft.

‘What a good idea, Emmy. Thank you.’

The kids pulled on their sandals and bounced out.

The lane was safe enough to walk along with them and the dog. Finishing in a dead end at La Cour des Roses, the only traffic that used it was us, our guests and local farmers. When we reached the end, I avoided turning right – which would eventually lead to the busy main road – and instead went left onto the lane leading to Madame Dupont’s house.

The children were happy enough, pointing out tractors in the fields when they spied them through the hedges (or if I lifted them to look) and seeing who could spot the most rabbits darting about in the verges and ditches. Half a mile along, Chloe was tiring, but as we neared Madame Dupont’s cottage, the sight of the blackened walls made her forget all about her worn-out little legs.

‘What’s that?’

‘That’s my friend’s cottage. Madame Dupont. I told you she had a fire, remember?’

Chloe peered through the gate and wrinkled her nose at the boarded-up mess. ‘Does she live in there?’

‘No. The house needs to be mended, so she’s staying with a friend. Luckily, she wasn’t there when the fire happened.’

Chloe, who couldn’t take her eyes off it, nodded her agreement that this was a good thing.

‘Is Madame Dupont the lady with all the chickens?’ Gabriel piped up.

‘Yes. You’ve got a good memory, Gabriel. She kept them in her yard.’

I opened the gate and led them onto the path to the cottage, then through the side gate, into the yard. Gloria went mad sniffing, her tail twitching, the smell of the chickens still tangible to her doggy nose. I let her off the lead to explore.

Gabriel looked around. ‘Wow. This is big.’

‘There were a lot of chickens.’

‘But they’re with a farmer now?’

‘Yes, with Madame Dupont’s neighbour. They’re fine.’ Well, most of them. Several may have seen the inside of a cooking pot by now.

‘Did they have a house, like Rupert’s chickens?’ Gabriel wanted to know. ‘Where is it? Can we look?’

Talk about filling in time.

I led them around the bend in the L-shaped yard, round the back of the house to the large, ramshackle wooden structure almost hidden away by trees encroaching from the neighbouring land.

‘Be careful,’ I warned as Gabriel raced ahead.

The chicken house was in need of external TLC, but when we peered inside, there was no straw or mess. Monsieur Girard must have cleaned it out and hosed down the inside, and even the yard. He was a good neighbour.

I pushed the dog out of the way as Gabriel clambered onto one of the little ledges and lay down. Good job Monsieur Girard had cleaned up.

‘It’s like a bunk bed,’ he said with satisfaction.

‘I want to! I want to!’ Chloe bounced up and down until I helped her up.

The things you have to do to keep small children occupied.

‘Two minutes,’ I told them. ‘I doubt it’s designed to take your weight. Chickens are much lighter than you two are.’

They giggled and snuggled onto their perches, making clucking noises, until I called it a day and got them back down.

Chloe wrinkled her nose. ‘It’s smelly.’

I laughed. ‘Imagine what it smelled like with all those chickens in here!’

Gabriel made a gagging noise and they ran out into the sunshine, giggling. As I rounded up the dog and we closed the gate behind us, I glanced back at the house and felt so sad.

‘Are you scared?’ Chloe asked me as we retraced our steps.

‘Scared? What about?’

‘The wedding.’

‘Weddings are a happy occasion, Chloe.’

‘But are you scared?’ Chloe repeated her question.

Wondering what she was thinking, I answered carefully. ‘No, but I am a bit nervous. It’ll be a busy day with a lot of people.’

Her eyebrows drew together and her breath caught.

Ah. So that was it. ‘Are you scared about the wedding, Chloe?’

She looked down at her feet.

‘Why are you scared?’ I stopped and lifted her chin so she was looking at me.

‘Because everybody says it’s a big day. That we have to be good all day!’ Her voice hitched. ‘I might do something wrong. I might get my dress messy.’

That wasn’t like Chloe. She was normally so bubbly and confident, and she didn’t usually worry about being told off.

‘Chloe, you won’t do anything wrong. My bridesmaids, Ellie and Sophie and Kate, will help you, but you don’t have to do anything special, just wear your dress and carry your flower basket – and it won’t be for long. Only at the mairie and for a few photos at the hotel. And in years’ and years’ time, when you’re as old as me, you’ll have those photos to remind you what you looked like when you were a flower girl.’

‘I s’pose.’

‘It would be nice if you try to be good, but not everybody can be good for a whole day, not even me. If you get your dress messy, it’s not the end of the world. I want you to enjoy yourselves. Can you do that?’

Chloe’s face lit up. ‘Really?’

‘That’s all I can ask.’

As we walked the dog back to La Cour des Roses, I glanced at Gabriel from the corner of my eye. He was suddenly very quiet.

‘Are you okay about the wedding, Gabriel?’ I asked him cautiously. ‘You’re not nervous?’

‘Nu-uh. Course not!’ He shook his head but kept his eyes firmly on his feet as he scuffed his way along the lane.

Hmm. I stopped and crouched down to his level. ‘Well, I’m sure you’re not, but in case you start to feel that way later, I can tell you there’s nothing to be nervous about. We’re going to have a great day with lovely food and a band and dancing. And you can even take your tie off later, if you like.’

He lifted his gaze to me, opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he reached his arms round me and hugged me tight. ‘Thanks, Aunt Emmy.’ A hesitation. ‘But I’m not nervous or scared at all.’

Kate’s arrival was greeted with delight on all sides.

Rupert was delighted because they’d got on like a house on fire when she came over in the spring.

Alain was delighted to meet her again because he knew how much she meant to me.

My parents were always delighted to see Kate – my mother thought she was the only one who could keep me on the straight and narrow and talk any sense into me.

But Nick was the most delighted of all. ‘Kate! I haven’t seen you for ages. It must be, what, six or seven years now?’

He folded her in his arms, and I was touched by his affection for my oldest friend.

Kate smiled as she pulled away. ‘Nearer nine, I reckon. I came to your twenty-first party, remember? You moved to London soon after that.’

‘Doesn’t time fly?’

They stepped apart, eyeing each other to identify the changes those years had wrought.

‘You look fantastic,’ Nick conceded. ‘Not a day over thirty-two.’

‘Ha! And you’ve become quite handsome in your old age. Not so geeky any more. Where are your glasses?’

‘Contact lenses.’

Rupert broke the suddenly interesting atmosphere. ‘I think pre-dinner drinks outside are in order.’ Rupert saw alcohol as the panacea for any situation.

Alain declined, as his mother had insisted he join them for dinner, and while everyone else settled outside, Kate and I took our wine for a stroll around the grounds, grabbing a few minutes to ourselves.

‘I love this garden,’ Kate declared. ‘You’re so lucky.’

‘I know. Trouble is, I’m lucky if I get more than half an hour out here at a time. It’s funny, really. Until I moved here, I wasn’t remotely interested in gardens. When we were kids, they were just somewhere to run around and chuck a ball – preferably not into Dad's beloved begonias.’

Kate chuckled. ‘That’s the only time I’ve ever seen your dad lose his temper.’

‘Yeah. I never understood why he wanted to spend his weekends gardening.’

‘Probably trying to avoid your mother.’

I laughed. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised.’

‘We’ve never had a garden of our own, though, have we? And, let’s face it, any plant unfortunate enough to be gifted to you always wilts and dies.’

‘True. But I’m beginning to see the appeal nowadays.’

‘Ryan certainly knows what he’s doing with this place,’ Kate agreed. ‘Are he and Sophie still together?’

‘Very much so.’ I told her about the charm bracelet.

‘Oh, that’s so romantic.’ There was a wistful note to her voice.

I shot a sharp glance her way. ‘There was nobody you could have brought as a plus one for the wedding?’

‘Nah. I’m taking a break from men. Things never work out. I’m tired of it.’

I studied her face and could, indeed, see an element of emotional fatigue. ‘You never have any shortage of admirers,’ I reminded her.

She rested her head on my shoulder and sighed. ‘I know, but I’ve finally admitted to myself that it’s the tits that are the problem. They’re the first thing men see. All they want to do is stare at them – and preferably get their hands on them. When the novelty wears off, there’s no foundation for anything else.’

‘Then you need to find a bloke who sees past them and enjoys your fabulous personality and sharp mind,’ I told her firmly.

Kate pushed her boobs out. ‘How am I supposed to do that? These things are always miles out in front of the rest!’

The next morning, my mother was going through what she saw as necessary wedding details with me when there was a knock on the door. Grateful for whatever distraction it might offer, even if it involved buying double-glazing, I went into the hall to find Gabriel standing there.

‘Maman is making Chloe have a nap because she’s being annoying. She said I could come over to see Gloria, if it’s okay with you.’ His face was comically hopeful.

Glancing across the courtyard, I spotted Sabine watching anxiously from a corner of her gîte window. Obviously she was trying to allow him a little freedom but couldn’t quite trust him yet.

I gave her a surreptitious wave to show it was fine. Any escape from my mother’s agenda was welcome.

‘Gloria’s in Rupert’s lounge,’ I told him. ‘I’ll go and get her. Do you want to play ball in the garden?’

‘Yeah. Great!’

He wasn’t the only one who was enthusiastic. I’d been speaking as I opened the door to Rupert’s rooms, so the dog heard the word ‘ball’. She was on her feet and through the door before we could blink.

With an apologetic shrug to my mother that said Is it my fault that small children need me to occupy them?, I grabbed some toys and led my charges to the open lawn area near the gîtes, where there was plenty of space to run around.

I taught Gabriel how to use Rupert’s arm-saving ball launcher, then how to take the ball gently from the dog’s mouth, until he exclaimed in a mock-repulsed manner about the amount of slimy drool that coated it after a few throws. Then they played tug with her rope toy.

After twenty minutes, Gabriel was dripping with sweat and the dog was panting. Boy and dog exchanged a look, and as if they could read each other’s thoughts, they flopped down in the shade of the tall hedge that separated the lawn from the courtyard.

‘I’ll get you both something to drink.’

I was back a few minutes later with a bowl of water for the dog and tall glasses of iced grenadine for Gabriel and me.

Gabriel was enthusiastic about his drink, then lay down, his head resting on Gloria’s belly, his face comically studious.

‘What are you thinking so hard about?’ I asked him.

He squinted up at me through hooded eyes. ‘Do you and Uncle Alain shout at each other?’

Well. There was a question out of the blue.

‘No.’ I remembered our heated discussion about my mother the other night. ‘Sometimes we disagree and get a bit cross. Maybe say things we shouldn’t.’

‘Will you shout at each other when you’re married?’

Crumbs. ‘I hope not. Why do you ask?’

A long minute of silence. ‘Mum and Dad shout at each other a lot.’

Urgh. ‘Do they?’

‘They used to only shout after we went to bed. But sometimes they shout when we’re there, too.’

What on earth was I supposed to say to that? ‘Maybe they’re tired at the moment. Sometimes people lose their temper when they’re tired.’

‘They must be very tired, then,’ he commented, lapsing into a doze while I wondered what – if anything – to do about his little revelation.

I worried about what Gabriel had said all through lunch, but figured the best I could do was speak to Alain that evening.

‘Glass of wine, Emmy?’ Rupert asked, dragging me out of my thoughts.

I eyed the bottle he was proffering and was about to say no, then thought, What the heck?

‘Only one glass,’ Mum warned as he began to pour. ‘Ellie and Sophie are coming for a final dress thing this afternoon, now that Kate’s here.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘They’ll be here in half an hour.’

Nick, Dad and Rupert looked suitably bewildered as to why a ‘final dress thing’ was required.

Kate looked like her afternoon had suddenly altered course in a way she didn’t fancy.

Jeanie looked uncomfortably at her sister-in-law.

I just looked at her askance, bordering on angry. ‘Since when?’

‘I texted them this morning. I know Wednesdays are Sophie’s mid-week closing, and Ellie’s agreed to take an hour out from work. We haven’t had a chance to see all three together, and it needs to be done.’

High-handed was the kindest word that sprang to mind, but I could go a long way downhill from there. Bossy, annoying, inconsiderate … How dare she snatch my afternoon from me in a manner I wouldn’t have chosen in a month of Sundays? I was fairly sure that Kate, Sophie and Ellie could find better ways to spend their afternoon, too.

I found my voice. ‘Couldn’t it be this evening? It’s hardly fair, dragging Ellie away from the office.’

‘Dad and I are out to dinner with Mireille and Christopher this evening, remember? And we’re running out of time to get anything sorted if there’s a problem.’

There was a problem alright, and it wasn’t the damned dresses. But when Jeanie caught my eye, all I managed was a tight-lipped smile and a shrug. It was a done deal.

That didn’t mean I had to like it. When Ellie and Sophie arrived, and Mum got up to usher us inside, I stopped her in her tracks.

‘No point in you coming with us, Mum. There’s hardly enough room for all four of us to move about in there. I’ll fetch you when the three of them are ready.’

Mum opened her mouth to protest, but I stared her down, hoping I wouldn’t have to resort to pointing out in front of everybody that, although my friends had responded to being summoned, they might want to draw the line at undressing in front of my mother.

But Dad tugged at her wrist until she huffed and sat back down, accepting the top-up of wine that Rupert circumspectly poured for her.

‘I’m so sorry my mother called you over like that,’ I said to Ellie and Sophie as they fetched their things from Ellie’s car and trudged with laden arms round the back of the house to my room, while Kate went upstairs to get hers. ‘She had no right. I would have stopped her, if she’d bothered to tell me.’

Ellie shrugged. ‘If it makes her happy.’

‘We tried our dresses on at the shop and for your mother weeks ago,’ Sophie complained. ‘How many more times must they be tried on?’

I raised an eyebrow. That kind of reluctance was more Ellie’s trademark.

Kate stumbled through the door with her stuff. ‘She hasn’t seen them with all the shoes and accessories, and now I’m here, she wants to see all three of us together.’

‘Might as well get on with it.’ Ellie pulled her top over her head, then smirked mischievously. ‘Are you looking forward to your parents owning a holiday home in the vicinity, Emmy?’

‘How did you hear about that?’

‘Rupert told me.’

‘Hmmph. It’ll be great for them, I’m sure.’

Sophie and Kate burst out laughing.

‘But not for you?’ Kate prodded.

My shoulders sagged. ‘I can’t stop them, can I?’

Kate wriggled into her dress. ‘What if they like France too much and start spending a lot of time out here?’

‘Then I’ll have to find myself a nerve specialist and a pharmacist willing to dole out large quantities of something calming and possibly illegal.’ I sighed. ‘Seriously? I’m fine with it. It’s fine.’

Ellie’s eyes twinkled. ‘That’s good, because I have a few suitable properties they might like.’

‘Ah. Hmm. They said they won’t look properly until they get the UK end sorted,’ I said, a tinge of desperation in my voice.

‘There is not enough room in here,’ Sophie grumbled. ‘I will change in the bathroom.’ Plucking up her dress, off she went, although she left the door open so she could join in the conversation.

Ellie frowned after her, then continued to torture me for sport as she slithered into her slender dress, Kate lending her a hand. ‘I could e-mail them details. It’ll give them an idea of what they can get for the money. That might help them make decisions.’

I closed my eyes in resignation, then opened them again. ‘E-mail them with as many details as you like. It’ll keep Mum occupied and out of my hair.’ I jabbed a finger at her. ‘But it would be preferable if you could ensure that these “suitable properties”’ – I made quotation marks in the air with my fingers – ‘are a minimum of, say, ten kilometres from La Cour des Roses.’

Ellie’s lips twitched. ‘Ten kilometres? Will that be enough?’

‘I won’t get away with suggesting anywhere else. This is the area they know and love. All I’m asking is that they’re far enough away that Mum won’t feel free to drop in any time she pleases. When I’m at La Cour des Roses, I’m working. I can’t take an hour out to have coffee with my mother several times a week. If she has to climb into her car and drive a while, she might check whether I’m available first.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Ryan thinks your mother wants to be near you and Alain so she can see her grandchildren as often as possible,’ Sophie called from the bathroom.

‘She doesn’t have any grandchildren!’ I spluttered.

‘Yet,’ Sophie called back.

‘And how does Ryan know about all this?’

Sophie’s head appeared around the doorframe. ‘Rupert told Ellie, she told me, and I told Ryan. It is not moon science.’

Wretched local grapevines.

‘That’s rocket science, Sophie.’ Ellie performed a twirl. ‘What do you think?’

She looked a knock-out, the deep purple, satiny fabric skimming her tall frame without clinging, her creamy cleavage on show for a change.

She caught the direction of my gaze. ‘I need to find a large necklace. Too much skin on show.’

‘I disagree. With that bra, you have cleavage – you might as well show it off. I hereby ban you from middle-aged beads or pearls on my wedding day.’

Kate laughed and shoved her shoes on. ‘Will I do, too?’

‘You’ll more than do.’ I manoeuvred them till they were side by side. ‘I was worried you might not be in the same colour range, but you are.’

‘Sophie? What are you playing at in there?’ Ellie called over her shoulder. ‘Let’s get this over with. I need to get back to work.’

Sophie came out of the bathroom in her dress.

‘Talking of cleavage,’ Ellie said, ‘I don’t remember that dress making you look so busty when you got it.’

‘I’m wearing a different bra today,’ Sophie said hurriedly, giving us a quick twirl. ‘Do you want to fetch your mother, so I can get changed again?’

‘You’ve only been in it two minutes.’ I lined them up. ‘You all look so lovely. Shoes on, and then I’ll call Mum in.’

Sophie turned, and a button pinged off the back of her dress.

Kate stooped to pick it up. ‘Let me see where this came from.’

‘Oh, no, thanks.’ Sophie snatched the button from her. ‘Vintage-style dress – must have vintage fastenings. I’ll sew it back on later.’

Ellie shot me a look. That dress was tight. Tighter than when Sophie chose it. How did you tell one of your best friends that she’d put on weight at a rather inconvenient time?

I shook my head to warn Ellie against saying anything. She gave a nod, took her low kitten heels from their box and slipped them on. I smiled at her choice. In higher heels, she would have been taller than every man at the wedding.

Kate put her shoes on, then slid Sophie’s shoe box across the room. Sophie bent to retrieve it. We got an eyeful of cleavage – and a ripping sound.

‘Merde!’

‘Let me see.’ Kate rushed across, inspecting the seams of the dress. ‘It’s next to the side zip at your waist.’

To our alarm, Sophie began to cry.

‘Don’t worry, Sophie,’ Ellie said. ‘It can be fixed.’

‘But it can’t be fixed,’ Sophie wailed, pulling at the zip so hard that Kate had to grab her hands and hold them still while Ellie and I undid it and helped to get the dress over her head without doing any more damage.

‘I’m sure it can,’ Ellie soothed, dismayed when Sophie plopped down on the bed in her underwear, her head in her hands. ‘It’ll only take a needle and thread.’

‘It will take more than that,’ Sophie mumbled through her fingers.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m pregnant!’