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me. But following me to Mauritius was so invasive. So all about his needs and not about mine. And when I saw him, I felt nothing but irritation and anger. I realised that if I was still in love with him, I would have felt glad. It would have been the stuff of fantasy.

But as it was, I threw the sugar bowl at him. To Mackenzie’s great amusement.

When we got back, I actually thought that he had salvaged things with Julia, that Julia had taken him back.

But then the flowers started to arrive. Truth to tell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d sent me flowers and notes begging forgiveness while still living with Julia. But one day my flowers arrived with a note addressed to her: ‘Julia, if not for me, for the baby. Xx Daniel’, said the card.

So I phoned her.

Julia sounded tentative when she answered. ‘Claire?’

I cut to the chase. ‘I’ve just got some flowers addressed to you.’

‘Hang on,’ she said, and I heard rustling in the background. ‘Oh my God’ – she came back on the line – ‘my card is addressed to you. It says: “Don’t throw away what we had.”’

‘Why’s he sending you flowers?’ I asked. ‘Doesn’t he live with you?’

‘I moved out. He’s in my flat still, but we’re done. I’m not prepared to be second best.’

I had to think about that. ‘So . . . he sends us both flowers, hoping one option or the other will work out for him.’

Julia’s voice was subdued. ‘He doesn’t even care which one of us responds.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t even know why I am surprised.’

‘Me neither.’

We were both silent for a few moments.

‘How’s the pregnancy going?’ I eventually asked.

‘Okay,’ said Julia. ‘Better now that Daniel isn’t around telling me how perfectly you handled every moment of your pregnancy.’

For a moment I considered letting her believe it, letting her feel inferior and useless. This is the woman who slept with my husband behind my back. But this is also a woman who made a mistake; who used to be my friend; and who is part of Mackenzie’s life whether I like it or not. ‘My pregnancy was revolting,’ I confessed. ‘I got so swollen they had to cut my rings off my fingers. I vomited three times every day.’

‘Really?’ Julia sounded so vulnerable.

‘Really,’ I said. ‘And Daniel kept making remarks about how it couldn’t really be that bad if millions of women do it every day, and that I needed to man up.’

‘Man up?’ Julia laughed. ‘He told you to man up in the middle of a pregnancy?’

‘Yes. And I hadn’t realised how absolutely ridiculous that is until this very minute.’

‘It’s seriously ridiculous,’ said Julia. ‘Seriously.’

We both laughed, and then felt awkward at the same moment and stopped.

‘Anyhow,’ I said. ‘Good luck and all that.’

‘You too,’ she said.

I thought that would be the end of it, but then we started exchanging messages about the flowers. Sometimes we even sent pictures. And then, after an overnight visit to Daniel, Mackenzie asked to see Julia. Apparently, before when she stayed, she spent most of her time with Julia, and she missed her. It felt strange, but Julia will be the mother of Mackenzie’s brother. So I let her go. I took her over to visit Julia at her mum’s place, and met Helen, her mother.

When Julia and I were friends, Julia tried to explain Helen to me; that she was cold and distant. The woman that I met seemed fine, to be honest. I mean, she didn’t fling her arms around me or Mackenzie, but she was perfectly polite. I felt strangely safe leaving Mackenzie with them. Better, to be honest, than I feel when I leave her with Daniel. When I fetched her two hours later, Julia thanked me and hugged me.

I smile. Without Daniel in my life, I have more time for my friends. And I like that. So today, like every day, my first task after the school run is to check for birthdays and send my wishes. Then I send a few warm messages to people like Janice, who has been quietly supportive to me, never judging, always willing to help. I feel like I lost sight of how good my friends are for a while there, and now I make sure that I spend a bit of time catching up, checking in, making time to value them. After that, because it’s Monday, I check my diary to make sure the week makes sense – that I know where Mackenzie has to be, where I have to be, what goals I have to achieve. I love Mondays. I love the feeling of a clean page in front of me.

I hear the sound of Laurel arriving and putting on the kettle. I gather my diary and pen, and go to join her. We’ll have our daily strategy session before we get down to work.

My phone beeps. I look at it expecting Julia again, but it’s Daniel.

Why don’t you join me and Mackenzie for our dinner tonight?

I think of the sweet peas. Identical bunches winging their way to both Julia and me this morning. Six months ago I would have said something rude, or made up a date. Instead, I tell him that he can take Mackenzie with pleasure, as arranged, but that I don’t want to see him. Ever.

One day the message will stick.

TUESDAY

Julia

My first day of maternity leave, and I sleep late.

Thank goodness for maternity leave, really, because an unforeseen side effect of both being pregnant and moving in with my mother has been a busy social life. In the first place, I now have things in common with my old friends again. Mandy is happy to issue dire warnings and give too much advice. Mary-Anne is pregnant too, and we’ve spent hours talking about how we are feeling and what friends our babies will be. And things didn’t work out for Agnes in Jamaica, so she

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