It was a relief that she didn’t have to try and squeeze into one of the designer chairs at the conference table, but Jenny’s stomach flip-flopped to see Eva waiting for her on the sofa. With tea and biscuits.

This was going to be bad.

Eva never looked entirely herself sitting on the sofa. There was something about her sharp, tailored frame which fit much better behind her large desk. She patted the armchair to her right. ‘Come and join me.’

Jenny stood her ground and folded her arms over The Bump: she needed to attack before losing her nerve. You should always be higher up than the person you are negotiating with. ‘Why have you given my column to Lucy?’

Eva lifted the teapot and started to pour. ‘I don’t know if you’ve fully realised this, Jen, but you’re about to have a baby. I’ve not had children, but I’m assuming it will be rather difficult to research and write a column aimed at single women when you’ve got a small person attached to you—?’

Not Eva, too? She was having a baby, not moving to another continent.

‘I know what HR said about maternity leave, but I’m only planning on taking six months. And I might even be back sooner. I’ve told you that.’ Eva hadn’t been pleased about the pregnancy, but Jenny had assured her from the outset that the baby would have as little impact on her work as possible. To be fair, the pregnancy had been a bit of a surprise to Jenny, too – who would have thought they’d get pregnant on the first go? ‘Have you told Lucy that her promotion is only temporary?’ Her eyes began to fill up. Damn hormones.

Eva sighed and pointed again to the armchair. ‘Sit. I don’t want your waters breaking all over the rug.’

Jenny perched on the edge of the armchair.

‘We both knew this was coming, Jen. And not—’ Eva held up her hand to prevent Jenny from interrupting ‘—not just because you’re pregnant. You’re getting too old to be reporting on the singles scene. For goodness’ sake, you haven’t been single for almost two years now.’

Jenny would never admit it, but she knew that Eva was right. Hauling herself out to speed dating events and nightclubs had lost its appeal. It was far nicer to lie on the sofa with Dan and a takeaway. Plus, half her wages now went on age-disguising eye cream.

But why wasn’t it possible to keep everything the same, for a little while longer at least? It wasn’t as if she were ill or emigrating to Australia. She was just having a baby. A tiny little baby. This must be why everyone said, ‘Your life will change’ – because they were the ones who changed it for you.

‘So, you’re taking my column away from me permanently. And what will you give me when I come back?’ Without ‘Girl About Town’, Jenny would only have the slush pile of interviews, product reviews and other random articles. She was happy to do her fair share of ‘How to Shape Your Eyebrows for Success’, but her column was her first baby. She had worked hard to get it.

Eva picked a piece of lint from the sleeve of her suit jacket. She collected up some papers from her lap and tapped them on the table to tidy them. ‘I know you don’t plan to take your full twelve months’ maternity leave, Jen, but you haven’t had the baby yet. And if you do… Well, a lot changes in this industry in twelve months. We’ll have to discuss your role if and when you return.’

If and when?

Eva looked Jenny in the eye. ‘You might prefer something you can do from home.’

What could she do from home?

‘Or part-time.’

Part-time?

Eva looked as if these were random suggestions that had just popped into her head, but Jenny knew her better. She also knew that Eva wasn’t keen on people working from home. Far better to have them under close surveillance, where she could ensure that they weren’t taking too many coffee breaks.

Jenny’s heart thumped. Lucy would be writing her column whilst she, Jenny, slaved away trying to drum up exciting adjectives for the latest shade of eye shadow, waiting for the day when she would become surplus to requirement. She needed an idea for a new column. And she needed it fast. Think. Think! Something she could research while she was at home with the baby. Something new, which the magazine didn’t already cover. Something that Eva would go for. Most importantly, something she could come up with right this minute.

‘How about a column for mothers?’ Jenny blurted out.

Eva looked at her as if she’d gone soft in the head. ‘Mothers? Hardly our demographic. Our readers want glamour and gossip – not dummies and diapers. Are those hormones doing something to your brain? Maybe you should be thinking about starting your maternity leave sooner rather than later.’ She glanced at her paperwork – Eva’s usual sign that you should leave.

But Jenny wasn’t about to give up. ‘No, no, wait, listen. I don’t mean a boring, mumsy column – quite the opposite. More a kind of “Englishman in New York” slant – what it’s like to find yourself in the world of babies when you are the least maternal person on earth.’ Jenny’s mind whirred and her mouth followed. ‘Think “Lost in Mothercare”. And, of course, I’d be the perfect person to write it. I mean, who is less prepared for motherhood than me? Can you imagine some of the messes I’m going to get into? Some of the crazy women I’m likely to meet in the next couple of months? It’ll be hilarious!’ Jenny laughed, to illustrate her point. Must not slip into hysteria.

Eva looked up. ‘I’m not sure…’

Jenny leaned forward, getting into her pitch. ‘What do you think has happened to all of those women who started reading “Girl About Town” ten years ago, when I first started writing it? Lots of them have met someone, settled down – might even be pregnant as we speak. Do you want to lose those readers, or give them something that speaks to them where they are now?’

Eva had her head on one side, listening. Keep talking.

‘I could be the intrepid explorer, taking them into new territory, showing them the way.’ Jenny held out her arm as if she were about to lead an expedition to Planet Baby.

Eva nodded slowly. Then shook her head. ‘And how are you going to find time to write this column? I’ve heard that women at home with children find getting things done a bit tricky. Let’s face it, Jen, you have hardly been the most organised writer, even when you’ve only had yourself to look after.’

Jenny made a mocking ‘pfff’ sound through her teeth. ‘I’m going to be at home all day, every day!’ According to her sister, it was impossible to do anything for yourself when you were at home with a baby, but Jenny wasn’t intending to turn into Claire.

Eva tapped her mouth with the end of her pen. ‘Just say I let you have a go at this… what will you write about? What kind of things do new mums do all day? Will you actually have any material?’

Material? Where could she get material? Think. THINK! ‘I’m starting an antenatal class next week,’ Jenny lied. ‘I’ll have a whole list of topics for you after that.’ She would have given Eva a couple of examples at this point, but she didn’t have a clue what they might be. ‘Look, while I’m on maternity leave, I’ll write a blog, test out a few ideas, see what kind of response I get. I won’t use my name, so there’ll be no connection to Flair to begin with… I’ll be an undercover reporter. That’s it! I’ll call it, “The Undercover Mother”! Just promise me you’ll look at it and consider turning it into a column?’

Eva stood up. ‘Okay. If you manage to keep up this “Undercover Mother” blog, I’ll look at it.’ She walked to her desk and sat down. ‘But no promises about a regular column.’

Jenny left Eva’s office and walked towards Lucy, who was sitting at her desk, chatting to Brian about her promotion. Traitor. Hot pants and thick tights weren’t a look that everyone could carry off, but Lucy managed it.

Jenny leaned in as she walked past. ‘Thanks so much for taking “Girl About Town” off my hands, Lucy. I’ve been begging Eva for weeks to let me start an exciting new project, and now I can.’ Without waiting for a response, she flounced off outside. Well, as much as you could flounce when you were carrying an extra two stone around your middle.

It wasn’t until she’d walked out of the front door that she fished into her bag for her phone. She googled ‘Antenatal classes’.

Now, how was she going to sell the idea of them to her unsuspecting husband?