New story. I'm going to try and keep at this one as I have some ideas I can work with. It will follow on from Baby Steps, my other story that I've finished, aiming for it to be about 5 years after. Let me know what you think!

'I do wish you would stop bloody flapping,' Alicia sighs, as she munches the last of the third cucumber of the day. 'Like a mother hen!'

'I'm not flapping.' Ethan replies, bending to pick up a small pink dress that had crumpled beneath the radiator. 'I am simply advising you it's probably not best to ram vegetables down your throat all day, too much of anything is bad—'

She rolls her eyes. 'Better than chocolate. Come on, you can't lie, it's healthy!'

'Not by the bucket load.' He mutters, taking away the soggy kitchen roll to the bin in the kitchen. 'It's time to get Delilah from school, anyway.'

'Shit, it was that assembly awards thing—'

'She told me in the car this morning she didn't want us there.'

'What? She loves us going!' Alicia exclaims.

'To quote her, "don't come here later on Daddy", so...'

'She's six, she doesn't know what she wants. I'm gutted we missed it.'

'That's outrageous, course she knows, stubborn little thing. She's your daughter alright.' He winks. 'Besides, I doubt there was anything worthy of missing. She only recently got the award, didn't she? For tidying up.'

Alicia snorts. 'Your daughter, more like.' She pulls the top down further, conscious of the mound attached to her jutting out at an awkward angle. 'I feel huge.'

'You are huge,' he agrees, 'especially to say you weren't even obviously showing last time at all.'

'Thanks.' She replies flatly. 'You are supposed to comfort me, no darling, you've never looked better, you're positively glowing...'

'I'm not about to lie.' He says, deadpan.

'Truth hurts feelings, lies sometimes don't. I thought you would rather not offend someone?'

He picks the car keys off the side, chucking them into the air and catching again between finger and thumb. 'You acknowledged it yourself! Are you coming with me or not?'

She heaves herself off the sofa, moving in a way that is half totter, half waddle. With great effort, she tugs on her boots, muttering expletives. 'I feel like a human submarine.'

'Submarine.' He snorts, as he throws her a jacket and puts the keys in the door. 'You have a way with words.'

She laughs back, despite herself, and manages to plod along to the car. It takes twice the amount of time it should — especially considering the car is only ten metres down the drive. The painfully slow speed is met by a degree of patience from Ethan almost enviable; he understands that tiny everyday adjustments have to be made.

'What if my waters break?' Alicia asks, pushing her seat back.

'They won't,' he assures her. 'It is one journey you've made all week, plus, baby seems snug in there. Probably too drugged up on cucumber to budge.'

'I just worry. Delilah would have a right tale to tell. Imagine that, this is my sister and my mum birthed her in the playground!'

'Unlikely. You'd go somewhere more quiet, like a staffroom or the cleaning cupboard.' Ethan smiles, carefully steering. 'Do you think it's a girl then?'

'What?'

'You said sister.' He points out.

'Did I? Freundin slip, perhaps.' She shrugs, smiling a little.

It has been clear from the get go that she would love another daughter, one to bring up from day one all pink and new. Everything with Alicia must be girly, so it's natural she wants an army of mini mes.

'Well, it'll be a wonderful surprise whatever it is.' Ethan says evenly.

'Labour literally could start, though. Nobody prepares you for this, do they? I feel so scared all of a sudden.'

'You'll be fine, you've done it once before. If it starts here, you are in the best hands.' He grins.

They drive along, both lost in thought. Trees fly past, buildings, people, bikes. They are infinitely lucky to live in such a quiet, communal part of the world, but not at three in the afternoon. It is notoriously the worst hour for traffic: office workers on late lunch breaks seek the hour to escape the dull four walls, schoolchildren and students are released, the postman does the rounds. There are lots of things to see.

Concentration, particularly when in control of a vehicle, is crucial. This does not much affect Ethan, a careful driver at all hours. He watches carefully, mirror almost in front of his nose. Indicates left. Gives way to at least five cars (and a bus). Finally, after both directions are ridiculously clear, he turns the corner into the car park of the little school.

'You quite sure it was safe to pull in?' Alicia mutters.

'Precious cargo on board.' He says in response, reversing into the space. 'You drive if you don't like my driving.'

'If I could fit behind the wheel, I would jump at the chance to.'

They both get out the car and make their journey into the school. Her hand remains firmly under her stomach, as if it isn't just a baby in there, but a sack of bricks.

'Mr and Mrs Hardy?' An anxious, excitable looking woman with ringlets and a clipboard greets them. 'Here to sign Delilah out? Year 2?'

'Please.' Ethan says, greeting her with a polite smile. 'Where do I sign?'

Alicia smiles at the woman as he scribbles a signature. 'You must be Mrs Robins. One week back of school and you've made a great impression on our girl.'

'Oh no, love. I'm just the receptionist, Mrs Green. Teaching went out the window for me a few years back, a substitute position gone wrong.'

'Ah right.' Alicia nods politely. 'Bet you're glad it's the weekend?'

'Yes, it's been a hectic week. Ooh — how exciting!' The woman gestures at Alicia's stomach, rubbing her hands together. 'You can't have long left?'

'My due date was yesterday, actually.'

Ethan kicks at her heel, which forces her to produce a genuine smile, instead of a withering look.

'Exciting for your daughter, a new playmate! Have you found out whether it's pink or blue?'

'Uh, we're keeping it a surprise.' He chimes in, holding back a gulp. It was worth waiting for the gender over being stamped with a death sentence at the 20 week abnormality scan. Persuading Alicia to miss it altogether, though not completely safe, had felt the obvious option.

'He's funny about it, proper old-fashioned.' Alicia rolls her eyes and squeezes his hand. 'We'd better go get her if that's okay.'

'Of course, straight round. Hope all goes well!' Mrs Green says kindly, waving them off and smiling at another parent, who was queueing behind them.

-x-

A sea of red swarmed before them as they took position on the concrete, waiting by the 'pick up bench' alongside the clusters of parents.

'Needle in a haystack.' Ethan mumbles, trying to peer through the crowd.

'I see her,' Alicia smiles, pointing.

Sure enough, there she is. Delilah skips along, clumsy but happy, keen to get outside. Her glasses fall wonkily against her rosy cheeks, blonde plaits bounce against her shoulders, green eyes vague and searching the crowd. Realisation dawns, and it is beautiful.

'Mummy! You came!' She squeals, gathering pace as she sprints across the playground.

'Hey monster!' Alicia greets, picking her up and twirling her around. 'Thought I'd move off the sofa and come see you!'

'Careful, you'll put your back out.' He warns her, taking the lunchbox from his child's wrist and zipping it up more firmly. 'How are you, D?'

'Daddy, look, look!' With sparkling eyes, the little girl flourishes a certificate, beaming. 'Read it!'

Ethan takes it, his own smile widening as he tilts it a little to allow Alicia to see. 'Hey, this is awesome! Best scientist? Wow!'

'Best scientist, eh?' Alicia nudges Ethan with amusement. 'Some grown ups don't even get that award, even if they try all their lives. You must have done something really special.'

The pair exchange glances above their daughter's head, causing him to give a little head shake and chuckle. She uses, without fail, any excuse to dig at him.

'I did an experiment with ice cubes and water and— daddy, are you listening?' Delilah tugs his arm indignantly.

'Yes, sorry sweetheart. Did you have to make the ice cubes into water, then?'

'Liquid!' She corrects. 'I had to stop them from getting to be liquid. I said that using cotton wool or tinfoil would be best, but everybody else in my team said it would be plastic or even carpet, which is definitely silly, and I knowed that using the cotton wool would keep all the warm out and make sure that it stayed all cubey.'

Ethan ruffles his daughter's hair affectionately. 'Sounds like you did perfectly to me. This is seriously cool. I think it should go on the fridge.'

'Yeah, or on the wall next to the door!' Delilah enthuses.

'Tell you what, it can go anywhere you want. We're super proud of you. Going to be a doctor one day?' Alicia asks.

The little girl giggles, a tinkling sound, clapping her hand over her face in embarrassment. 'Too boring! I want to be an astronaut.'

They both laugh.

'Will you fly me to the moon then? Seeing as I'm your mum and everything.' Alicia says, once she's composed herself.

'I want to take daddy...' She says thoughtfully. 'He would be better if we got lost.'

Ethan laughs, loudly, triumphantly. 'You are my favourite girl, Delilah.'

'Daddy hates heights though.' Alicia recognises, dramatically yawning in a bid to get a jibe back.

'Then he can go to sleep or shut his eyes.' She says simply, as if she has found the solution.

Ethan ruffles his daughter's already messy, windswept hair, wondering how he could ever love another being as much. 'You are cute.'

She widens her eyes, spiky, long eyelashes even more striking. They both notice the dinner round her face, a strange blend of chocolate and conspicuous orange stains. A fleck of neon yellow is even more obvious: clearly a result of a day well spent splashing in paints.

Between them, they lug all the bags back to the car. There is so much luggage, to a stranger, it would be natural to wonder if it belonged to a large family. It didn't. All Delilah's artistic creations — and all their many sequins — alongside the sports kit for a weekly wash, spelling and reading books, and the recorder in its case. They chose not to educate her privately so that she could have such an experience. A price couldn't be put on the achey arms and glittery kitchen linoleum.