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jelly bellies. Not that babies aren’t cute, they are, but is it worth that? I don’t think so.’ She twirled her blonde hair between her fingers. ‘This way, I get to keep my figure, go mad at Baby Gap, take the little weenie out for trips and then give it back. It couldn’t be any more perfect!’
    Their mum joined in. ‘Goodness, Carrie, you don’t know the half of it! Imagine what my boobs and tum were like after having you twins.’
    ‘I’d rather not, thanks.’ Carrie mimed retching.
    ‘My stomach was never the same again. For years I needed a good corset to take up the slack. Your poor dad was in shock the first time I got undressed, and boing!, everything went south.’
    ‘Mum! I think we get the picture!’ Romilly raised her eyebrows at David, who looked decidedly pale.
    ‘And don’t get me started on my pelvic floor!’
    ‘La la la la!’ David sang with his fingers in his ears.
    They were all howling with laughter as Romilly’s dad, Lionel, came in from the garage with a bottle of Prosecco. ‘Here we go!’
    ‘Ooh, just in time, Dad! Mum was telling us about her post-pregnancy pelvic floor.’ Romilly grimaced.
    ‘Lovely.’ Lionel smiled, as though he didn’t have the foggiest idea what she was talking about. He popped the cork and poured the fizz into the waiting glasses. ‘Are you having one, Rom?’ he asked.
    David shot her a look.
    ‘It’s okay, David. There’s no need to look at me like that! I know I’m not allowed any!’
    ‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ Pat offered amiably. ‘I think a little bit of what you fancy does you good. People go nuts with the whole pregnancy thing nowadays. Blimey, I used to give you lot a dab of whisky on your dummies to settle you.’
    ‘Yes, Mum, that’s a great idea!’ Carrie rolled her eyes. ‘And what if you fancy a little bit of crack cocaine or a little bit of cyanide, is that good too?’
    ‘I don’t think it’s quite in the same league as a sip of Prosecco.’ Romilly sighed.
    Lionel coughed. ‘Here’s to the wonderful news that soon we will be welcoming the next generation. A grandad! What a marvellous title that is!’
    ‘And I’ll be a very proud grandma,’ Pat added.
    Romilly felt a flush of joy at how happy her parents were at their news.
    ‘Wish Holly was here.’ Her dad sighed.
    ‘I shall Skype her later, fill her in.’ Romilly smiled.
    ‘So do you think it might be twins?’ Carrie asked eagerly.
    ‘No, ’fraid not. It’s just one baby! I’ve had that confirmed.’ She patted her tum with its minuscule baby bump.
    ‘It usually skips a generation,’ their mum pointed out.
    ‘That’s such a shame. Just the one, how boring,’ Carrie said.
    Romilly stared at the remains of the chilled Prosecco and found herself wishing that she could have a glass.

Celeste
    I have lots of good memories of my mum; good days, lots. It wasn’t as if every day of my childhood was blighted, not at all. There were some days with Mum that were my best ever days, literally the best ever. That’s the thing, when she was on it, she was the greatest mum in the world! It was almost as if she was making up for the other times. She was funny, interesting, patient and carefree.
    One day in the summer holidays, I was about four or five, she took me to Canford Park, not far from where we lived, where there was this big rectangular pond surrounded by a beautiful rose garden. I was wearing my little blue sandals and we practically skipped there, hand in hand. She put a tartan blanket on the paving by the pond and as we sat staring at the water, she told me even more about the mayfly. She told me they were precious because they were only on earth for such a short space of time and she told me she thought they were the most beautiful creatures ever created. ‘Apart from you,’ she said, and she touched my nose. Then she bent close to me and whispered, ‘Imagine if they were aliens, taking on the form of mayflies, not wanting to hang around