So I'm uploading this just 20 minutes before I leave to catch my train for London. Another #BrandonBabes weekend to see Singin' In The Rain for the umpteenth time! I can't wait to meet up with everyone again.

Chapter 3

"I can't do it," Makepeace protested with a childish surliness as she lumbered her way out of the changing room. "It's just ridiculous! I can barely walk."

Carol Chivers, the proprietor of the Keeping It Real Specialist Props Agency in the West End came up behind her to heft up the wide, padded shoulder straps of the empathy pregnancy vest.

"It'll be fine, my darling. It's just a question of getting used to it. Don't forget, most women have had eight and a half months to build up to this stage."

"But it's so heavy!" Makepeace exclaimed. "It can't possibly be this heavy in reality, pregnant women would be collapsing in the streets!"

Carol smiled happily. "Oh it is I'm afraid. We make all our props as authentic as we possibly can and at this late stage of your third trimester you could expect to be carrying an extra two stone in weight. It varies of course from lady to lady but on average, this would be the correct size and weight."

Makepeace studied herself critically in the full length mirror, her hands running over the flesh coloured quilted polyester casing of the bump. The popped out navel was just weird and whilst the padded cups made her breasts appear at least two sizes bigger, they just looked matronly without a proper waist to compliment them.

A peculiar rasping squeak focused both the women's attention on Dempsey who had made himself comfy some time ago in one of the large, elaborate 'throne' chairs stationed outside the fitting room.

Makepeace scowled at her partner who was literally bent double and laughing so hard he couldn't actually breathe.

"Oh shut up, Dempsey," she snapped. "It isn't funny. It's a bloody nightmare."

He raised his head to speak but just couldn't force anything out. His face was flushed and distorted and tears streamed down his cheeks to drip on the vermillion red carpet. But as is often the case, his uncontrollable laughter was contagious and Carol Chivers began laughing too.

"I certainly don't envy you, especially in this warm weather."

"You look like a freakin' whale that's grown legs!" Dempsey roared.

"And you sound like an ape that's grown an opinion!" she fired back angrily.

Harry realised that she'd never witnessed Dempsey laughing quite so hard and so freely and for a moment she studied him curiously. She rather liked it.

"You need to be careful," Carol told him, still laughing herself, "Harry would be well within her rights to throw a hormonal strop you know."

Dempsey thrust up from the chair, turning away from them both with his right arm extended out as though to hold them at bay as he choked on his laughter.

Despite herself, Makepeace now felt the urge to laugh too. It had nothing to do with her own predicament though, it was just the sight of Dempsey on the verge of hysteria.

"Alright," said Carol, trying to stay professional, "a bit of a practice walk up and down and then some bending and sitting to get you used to it."

Harry directed the huge pregnancy bump at the opposite wall and attempted to walk normally. She had never felt so ungainly in her entire life.

"Now I know it isn't easy," Carol giggled, "but try to walk the way the bump is making you walk, not the way you want to walk. Let your feet turn out…that's it, let yourself waddle, that's right and don't arch your back because you'll finish up with awful backache by the end of the day."

Makepeace gave in to the bump, her feet splayed out at ten to two and her pace slow and steady.

"You're doing really well, darling," Carol encouraged.

"Yeah, you've taken to it like a duck to water, Harry." Dempsey collapsed again in a fit of laughter.

Carol flashed him a grin but then turned back to Harry, placing a supportive hand upon her arm. "Now over to the chairs and try sitting down, my love."

Lumbering unsteadily, Makepeace made it to the two throne chairs, grabbing onto the ornate gold lacquered back of the closest one and manoeuvring herself around it.

"I'm warning you," she grated, not even needing to look at Dempsey to know he was still in melt-down.

Air wheezed out of him and as Harry grasped the chair arm with one hand and tried to hoist up the pregnancy bump with the other, he made a sort of ratchety noise in his throat.

"It'll get easier, darling," Carol promised, laughing along with Dempsey over Harry's head. "And up again…"

Harry levered herself out of the chair awkwardly. "God, we need to get this case done and dusted very, very soon."

"Well I think this could be a bit of an incentive," said Carol with a sympathetic smile. She looked across at Dempsey. "And remember, Jim, you need to play your part too. You're the father-to-be; sympathetic, considerate, doting… not laughing your socks off every time you look at her."

Dempsey held his hands up. "I know, I know. It's gonna be a challenge is all I'm sayin'." He looked at Harry who was clasping both hands to her fake belly, a pained expression on her face and laughed out loud again, shaking his head.

Carol rolled her eyes and tutted. "Honestly, I can see you blowing your cover if you carry on like this."

"You're really not helping," Harry told him. "Did I laugh when you had your Jewish diamond merchant get-up?"

"Hey, there's nothin' funny about turnin' seventy three inside the space of two hours," he defended.

"And that prosthetic nose was hilarious but did I laugh at you, Dempsey? No, because it was a serious undercover operation and I knew it was important that you got into the role and the mind set."

Carol tutted again. "How you two manage to work together is beyond me."

Dempsey came up behind Makepeace, reaching round to hold the pregnancy bump. "Me and the missus rub along just fine," he pushed his cheek up against hers, "isn't that right, honey?"

She couldn't help but laugh then but pulled his hands away and extricated herself from his grasp all the same. "Go and practice your part on some other sumo wrestler, I'm feeling nauseous and it's got nothing to do with morning sickness."

Carol took Harry's hand to move her away from the chairs. "Alright, my love, let's have a go at something else. Jim, what have you got in your pocket?"

"It's just the way I walk, I swear!" he said, the epitome of innocence.

She laughed. "No, I mean your wallet, car keys, loose change, something like that."

Hi slipped his hand into the pocket of his beige Chinos and pulled out a set of car keys.

"These do ya?"

"Lovely. Just pop them down on the floor there."

He tossed them down and grinned at Harry. "Go get 'em partner."

She looked at them with disgust. "This is way above and beyond the call of duty," she complained as she stooped to retrieve the keys.

"Bend your knees, darling, not your back, you need to keep your centre of gravity."

But Harry was leaning too far forward and the heavy weights strapped to her front caused her to loose her balance, landing on all fours on the floor.

Dempsey let out a high pitched howl of laughter. "You're killin' me babe, seriously, you're killin' me," he groaned.

"Many a true word spoken in jest," Makepeace ground as Carol dragged her up, flushed and embarrassed. "Maybe you'd like to try this bloody thing on, see how you like it."

"Nah, that's woman's work," he goaded, popping a stick of gum into his mouth and grinning as he chewed.

"Okay, have another go, my love, and then some more walking and sitting. I've got a pamphlet you can take away with you with the instructions and diagrams and there's care instructions for the bump itself. You'll need some maternity wear too of course but we can pick that out before you go.

In the event there was very little choice of maternity clothing and even less available in her sizing.

"Don't worry," she told Carol, "I'll get something in town; Spikings will foot the bill. Or failing that, I'll take down my Laura Ashley bedroom curtains and run up a smock or two," she said gloomily.

Dempsey carried their would-be offspring out to the car park and dumped it into the boot of the Mercedes.

"You can drop me on the high street," said Makepeace coolly.

"You don't want me to come with?"

"No thank you," she clipped. "I'll see you back at the office later."

"You sure? You don't need me to help pick out nursing bras and nipple shields?"

"Not funny." He could tell from her dejected tone that Makepeace had reached her limit – she'd had enough.

"Okay, babe. No more wise-cracks. This is a big thing you're doin', ha? Gotta admit, it's a strange one, not the kinda undercover you'd ever expect to be doin'." He glanced across as she fastened her seatbelt. "An' that fat suit weighs a ton!" he commiserated.

"Will you…" Makepeace shrilled, on the point of lashing out but then she made herself calm down and put her head back on the headrest, "…will you just drive?!