person I know who’d say that.
‘And why the hell aren’t you answering your phone?’
And that’s the giveaway. I have zero idea what the hell she’s doing here when she’s on her baby-popping sabbatical but the pointy, suede court shoe I’m looking down on matches her, as well as the parrot shriek. My stomach has dropped faster than a five-ton weight, but as I turn I know exactly who I’m going to see.
‘Phoebe!’ I’m less ready to be rammed in the shins with a pram so humungous it looks like it’s built for giants, but I peer in anyway. ‘And this must be Hunter?’ The child I’m staring at is in full rugby kit, giving furious kicks with his Nike trainers, and his beady eyes are a lot like Phoebe’s when she’s intent on snaffling the last chocolate biccy for herself. To my untrained eye, he looks closer to teenager size than the teensy bundle I’d imagined cradling, which just proves how little I know. If I tried to cuddle this one he’d most likely smother me.
The big surprise for me is that I’m staring hard at a little human and my tummy isn’t squishing even a tiny bit. And the pangs of jealousy I’d expected to find belting me in the chest aren’t there at all. As I take in large ears and a lolling mouth that’s a lot like Ben’s when he’s come off the spare-bedroom treadmill, and a nose pointing at exactly the same angle as Phoebe’s, it’s like that game where you make faces out of strips. I can’t say he’s cute at all.
I know I have issues with Hunter’s mum and dad, but he’s only a baby; he can’t help his parents. I give him a little wave and when he doesn’t wave back I try for an ice-breaking age-appropriate greeting instead. ‘Great intergalactic transport you’ve got there, Hunter. I’m Aunty Milla.’ I turn back to Phoebe. ‘How did he get so big?’
The fact that Phoebe towers above me as she looks through the curtains of her Kate Middleton hair could be a clue to the size. She’s simpering. ‘Hunter’s a ninety-fifth-percentile child. He’s off the top of every graph in the baby handbook.’ This is Phoebe; of course he has to be bigger and better than anyone else’s baby. As she shakes back her hair again, her chin juts and her eyes go all flinty. ‘By the way, baby-name etiquette changes faster than the top one-hundred names. First to the labour ward gets first dibs now. Not that I’d expect you to know that, being so far away from childbirth. In any case, they were my wellingtons, you know.’
‘That name’s dropped off my list anyway.’ Since I’ve seen the baby, it’s put me off big time.
Nic’s turned with me, and he gives me a nudge. ‘None of us are ever more than nine months away from a baby. Nine is right, isn’t it Milla?’
Phoebe’s spluttering. ‘Who the hell is this?’
Nic’s grins at me. ‘Nic Trendell, happy to meet you. I’m Milla’s fiancé.’
I’m watching Phoebe’s jaw drop so I rush in to put her right. ‘He’s joking, obviously.’
Phoebe’s face recomposes. ‘He’d have to be.’
Nic’s voice is gravelly and full of laughter. ‘She didn’t say that when I asked her.’
Phoebe’s looking from Nic to me and back again. ‘But she can’t be engaged. She’s barely been here five minutes.’
Nic gives one of his famous shrugs. ‘When cupid’s arrow hits, you can’t fight it. Especially when you’re as smitten as Milla and I are.’ He’s going to fall flat on his face any minute, and it won’t be so funny when he does. But he’s still not stopping. ‘Working as closely together as we do, we were bound to be on fast-forward. But when you’re as certain as we are, why wait?’
I can’t believe how much he’s going for this. He did seem to have taken an irrationally large dislike to Phoebe before he even met her, but even so.
When Phoebe’s left eyebrow shoots up she doesn’t look funny like Poppy does, she’s just plain scary. ‘So where’s the ring?’
Nic turns to me with a frown. ‘That’s a good question. Why aren’t you wearing your ring today, Milla Vanilla?’
I’m about to fall flat on my face, but I can’t resist playing along. ‘You know me and early mornings – I left it in the bathroom.’
Nic’s staring me straight in the eye. ‘I’m sorry, that’s going to cost you a kiss.’ He has to be kidding. And crazy.
I’m so