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the centre of town and then catch her train out again. But finally, she arrived at her station. She’d told Tim which train she was on in the hope that he’d suggest coming to meet her at the station, but he had just replied with an ‘x’. The lift was broken and Amy found herself lugging the suitcase up the endless flight of steps. She needed to get herself one of those little badges, she decided. Baby on Board. Then someone would be bound to help her.

She wondered how she went about getting one, and decided to ask the station attendant. It would be quite a sweet way to tell Tim even, she thought. Just to present him with a badge.

‘Congratulations, love,’ said the man in the ticket office. ‘We’re all out. Apply online. Takes two to four weeks.’

Never mind, thought Amy. It was a bit gimmicky anyway. She’d tell him properly. With words.

Amy jumped up, wrapping her arms and legs around Tim when he opened the door. She buried her face in his neck and breathed in his smoky coconut scent and felt his warm body pressing against her.

Against them both.

‘Easy tiger,’ said Tim, gently shaking her off him. ‘You’ll break my back.’

‘You think I’ve put on weight?’ Usually Amy would be appalled at the suggestion, but she found herself excited. She was changing already. She half expected him to tell her she was glowing.

‘Of course not,’ said Tim, carefully. ‘I would never say that.’ ‘What did you want to tell me?’ asked Amy, releasing him and dragging her suitcase inside.

‘Not now,’ said Tim. Amy frowned at him. He was being strange, but then again, she had a secret too. She probably seemed weird to him.

‘Do I look different?’ she asked, unable to resist.

‘You look tanned,’ he said.

‘I spent the whole time inside,’ said Amy. ‘Painting.’

‘Not eating spaghetti off naked Italians?’

‘Only penne,’ replied Amy, with a laugh.

‘Fancy a drink?’ asked Tim. ‘I’m having one.’

‘No thanks,’ said Amy. She paused. ‘I’m pretty tired tonight,’ she said. ‘But how about I cook us a nice dinner tomorrow?’

‘I can’t tomorrow,’ said Tim. ‘I’m busy.’

‘What?’ exclaimed Amy. ‘But I’ve just got back.’

‘And I’m here now,’ he said, kissing the top of her head.

‘You didn’t even get me from the airport,’ muttered Amy.

‘You told me not to!’ Amy had, but that wasn’t the point.

‘Can’t you cancel your plans?’ she wheedled.

‘You’ve been away six weeks, Amy, and you’re complaining because I’m out one night?’

‘OK,’ said Amy. ‘Fine.’ She paused. ‘What are you doing, anyway?’ ‘Simon wants to chat band stuff,’ he said. ‘Think he’s hoping I might join them for a gig. But it will just be a quick drink, shouldn’t take long.’

‘I’m going for a shower,’ said Amy, feeling dirty and tired from her journey.

‘Sorry, Amy,’ said Tim, giving her a little kiss. ‘We’ll have that dinner on Friday. I’ll cook. There’s something important I want to talk to you about.’

Amy settled down for a brief rest on the bed after her shower and fell fast asleep. When she woke up the next morning Tim had already gone to work. She spent the day unpacking and even had a little look in Chantel’s room. They could convert it into a nursery. Already Amy was imagining the glorious birds she’d paint on the walls. Maybe she’d create a real sky on the ceiling, complete with fluffy clouds and a bright rainbow that could extend to the walls.

Amy waited and waited for Tim to come home, but he didn’t. That quick drink must have turned into a long drink, then another, and then god knows what else. Eventually Amy gave up on him and went to bed, curling up on her own until sleep overtook her. She woke up in the middle of the night, assuming it was Tim who had woken her, but no Tim appeared in the bedroom. She got up and checked the living room to see if he’d come home and fallen asleep on the sofa, but there was no sign. She went to the loo, already a more frequent occurrence, then went back to bed. She hoped he wouldn’t be hungover when she told him her news, but then, he couldn’t be blamed for that. He had no idea what was coming his way.

It was when she woke up on Friday morning and he still wasn’t there that she started to really worry. She phoned Tim, but it went straight to voicemail. They were probably passed out on Simon’s couch, she decided. Or in a gutter maybe, she thought, bitterly.

She phoned Tim and then Simon every hour or so, feeling worry building up inside her. Still no answer. She tried to stay calm; surely stress wasn’t good for the baby. She was planning to go to the library later and get a book on pregnancy. Already she’d checked online and discovered that the baby was currently the size of a sesame seed.

Eventually, as she was picking the sesame seeds she couldn’t bear to eat off a bread roll that she’d found in the cupboard for lunch, she got a call. Simon. She hurried to pick it up, sending her little pile of sesame seeds flying to the floor.

‘Why on earth do I have seven missed calls from you?’ asked Simon.

‘Where’s Tim?’ asked Amy.

‘Tim? How should I know?’

‘He’s not with you?’

‘I haven’t seen Tim in weeks,’ replied Simon. ‘The band broke up, remember? Course you do.’

‘You weren’t with him last night?’ Amy felt her heart fall into her stomach.

‘It’s been weeks,’ repeated Simon. He paused. ‘Have I landed him in it?’

Amy found she was too angry to reply. Why had Tim lied? She’d been away for six weeks. A lot could happen in that time. Amy couldn’t help but leap to conclusions.

Amy dialled Chantel again. She needed the moral support of her best friend. Chantel’s phone went to voicemail too. Why did no one answer their bloody phones? She looked at her watch. It was lunchtime on a Friday so Chantel would

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