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teat out, began to cough. Hester felt anger rising inside herself. It wasn’t doing what it was supposed to. It should take all the bottle. The book said. TV said.

    ‘Don’t you fuckin’ do that,’ she said, no trace now of baby talk. ‘Take it . . .’

    She shoved the teat back in the baby’s mouth again, forced it to drink. Pushed the rising anger back down.

    The baby stopped coughing, took the teat. That was better.

    It was shrivelled and the wrong colour. And it wailed and shat all the time. She hated that. But it was a baby. And that was all she had wanted. So she would put up with it.

    ‘But you’d better start to be like the TV babies,’ she said to its bare head, ‘the proper babies, or there’ll be trouble . . .’

    The baby kicked and wriggled, tried to get away from the bottle.

    ‘No,’ she said, ‘you need to be big and strong. And you’re not finished until I say you’re finished . . .’

    Milk ran down the baby’s cheeks. It had finished feeding. Hester kept the teat in place.

    She smiled, looked at her watch. Closed her eyes. It would be time for her husband to go out soon.Yes, she had a baby now but his work wasn’t done. There was still the list to be attended to. Then, when he had finished, he would come back to her and they would all settle in. A real family. Complete. She opened her eyes. Smiled. Content with her life.

    For now.

8

    ‘ F ancy a coffee?’ The bright and perky voice was in Marina’s ear once more.

    Marina turned. Caroline was standing with some of the other women from the group, heading towards the door.

    ‘A few of us usually head off into town,’ Caroline said. ‘Go to Life for a coffee. Well, those of us who can still drink it. And usually a little something else.’

    ‘Doesn’t that undo everything you’ve just done here?’ asked Marina.

    Caroline laughed, shrugged. ‘What’s life without a few little treats?’

    Marina smiled. ‘That’s kind, thanks, but I have to get back to work.’

    Caroline, Marina noticed, was now dressed in the latest in designer and high-end high-street maternity wear. She had also done her make-up in the time it had taken Marina to get showered and dressed. How had she managed that?

    Caroline smiled again. ‘You sure?’

    And Marina saw something in her features she hadn’t noticed earlier. Tiredness, lines around the eyes. Her smile too brittle. Caroline was older than Marina had first thought, older than her peers in the group. She dressed younger, acted younger, but she couldn’t quite hide the extra years.

    ‘It would be lovely to have you along.’

    Marina returned the smile. ‘Maybe next time.’

    ‘Okay, then. Next time.’ Caroline turned, went off with her happy, chattering friends, all similarly dressed. They smiled as they passed, and Marina reciprocated, letting it fade once they had all exited.

    She watched them go, talking and laughing. They were a group Marina would have instantly categorised, even stereotyped. Middle class, husbands at work, the type of women who would have pain-free births and, by hitting the gym and the fad diets, get their pre-pregnancy figures back within a week. The type of women other women would envy and even secretly despise.

    From a distance Caroline looked like she was one of the group, but Marina sensed something different about her. Something separate. Maybe that was why she had wanted Marina to go with them. Or maybe she was just being friendly. No matter. Not her problem. Marina waited until they had all gone, walked through the foyer of Leisure World.

    The piped muzak drowned out the shrieks, cries and splashes of schoolchildren cramming in five minutes of play after their prescribed swimming lessons, the multicoloured flume and slide tubes sticking out of the side of the building taking a pounding. She walked through the doors and on to the forecourt. The noise was bad enough but the chlorinated smell was seriously starting to assault her nostrils. She