“What’s all the noise about?” asked Stella strolling into the kitchen, “Oh the cook’s here I see.”

“You cheeky cow,” I replied.

“Mima walked.”

“What to Tesco’s and back?” said Stella looking at the bags on the table, “Is that why you’re so late?”

“What?”

“I was getting worried we’d have no dinner tonight.”

I was getting ready to blow a gasket. However, Tom intervened, “Mima walked today,” he said.

“What our little Mima?” said Stella.

“Yes, according to Cathy.”

“That’s brilliant,” she said and they both began dancing around the kitchen.

“I could murder a cuppa,” I said looking at the kettle.

“You can make me one as well, what time is dinner likely to be?” said Stella.

“I have just got in after fighting my way around a supermarket and the rush hour traffic, you’ve been gossiping with Pippa all day, you’ll be bloody lucky to get anything.”

“I worked hard all day,” said Stella.

“Wait until Puddin’ is born, you don’t know you’re born.” I gloated as I said it, she had a shock coming.

“But you’ve been home all day doing nothing?” protested Stella.

“I’ve entertained a copper, been to see a lawyer and done the shopping, all helped by Mima of course, so no I haven’t done very much at all, have I? Now clear out of my kitchen before you end up on the menu.”

She left in a huff. Tom stood there smirking. “What’s your problem?” I asked aggressively.

“She really has no idea, does she?”

“Nope, and if she thinks I’m going to do most of it, she has another think coming. She’ll have to ask Daddy to fund a nanny.”

“Do you honestly think he would?”

“Why not she gets everything else she wants.”

“Not quite.” I presume he meant Des, but I wasn’t going to get involved in that.

“Want me to help?” he asked.

“Yeah, can you keep an eye on tiny-wee?”

“Of course,” he went off to the lounge.

I busied myself with frying a pound of sausages and doing some mashed potatoes, I made some gravy because I know Tom likes it, and did some baked beans as well. Stella grumbled, but it didn’t stop her eating it. I chopped some up fine for Mima, who ate up every bit. She sat with Tom for a while and dozed off while he was reading to her.

I woke her took her to the bathroom and cleaned her teeth, then a quick change into a nightie and she was in bed and asleep. I went downstairs where Tom was loading the washer.

“Where’s Stella?”

“Gone for a lie down, her ankles are swelling.”

“Aw diddums, are we going to have to cope with this for another five months? She’s pregnant, for God’s sake, not disabled. If she was in Africa, she’d still be ploughing or carrying water from the well.”

“Just as well she’s not then, isn’t it?”

“If this carries on, I’m going to say something, or it’ll be more than her ankles that swell.”

It was nine o’clock and I was having a final cuppa before going to bed. I jumped and nearly spilled it as the door bell rang. Tom looked at me and put down his wine before he went to answer it. I heard voices and in walked a woman in her thirties, “Are you Miss Watts?”

“Who wants to know?” I asked unhelpfully.

“I’m Esther Polley, senior social worker. I called to see you this afternoon.”

“So?”

“Don’t take that attitude with me.”

“Hark who’s talking? You hadn’t made an appointment, so how can you expect me to keep it?”

“You were told to make yourself available for inspections.”

“Yes, within the bounds of reasonableness. I was out and Jemima was with me, she actually walked while we were out. I think that’s a damned sight more important than waiting for some overpaid public servant to make snide comments, don’t you?”

“I find your attitude unhelpful, and possibly incompatible with fostering.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“Prove it?” she snapped.

I held up my mobile phone–“It’s all on here, see you at the disciplinary.”

“Now you wait a moment–oh switch that bloody thing off.”

“Sorry, it stays on, you were saying?”

“I want to see the child.”

“She is upstairs and fast asleep, I will allow you to see her, but if you disturb her, I will call the police and have you arrested.”

“What? If police come, I’ll take the child into custody.”

“If I call them, Ms Polyester, it’ll be you who goes out in custody.”

We glared at each other for a few moments until Tom interrupted. “Ladies, I hate to break up your party, but I think we should sneak a look at Jemima and then you can go home to bed and we can retire to ours.”

We did what he suggested, the woman went in and checked Mima, who sighed and said “Mummy Caffy, wuv you,” and went back to sleep. I felt choked, Tom whispered ‘Aww’ and the social worker snorted and slunk out of the room.