'I feel like a penguin with a beach ball shoved up its coat.'
'Welcome to the 9th month. Whinge about it all you like, you've earned it' said her mother, pouring her some juice.
'I hated every waddling minute of it.'
'It's like being an elephant on skates' said Bernie.
'Can't wait to fit into my jeans again.'
'Oh my darling daughter, you won't be able to do that for a good while after. Don't sulk, have another pastry.'
It was a cold winter's night when baby Charlotte made her arrival, healthy and hangry and as ordinary a baby as could be. For all her complaining, Elinor had done well; roaring furiously away with each contraction, choosing Cam for support and banishing the grandmothers to the waiting room. Jason stayed at home to tidy up and welcome them. Several rounds of cottage pie were already freezing up nicely. Jason was a big fan of cottage pie.
It was getting harder to conceal their outright longing for each other. They sat with fingers entwined, talking softly, remembering the time when it was their turn all those years ago. They scathingly recalled the effects of the afterbirth and reminisced about how the little things had thrown them for a loop. They filled each other in about their ex-husbands at their long labours (20 hours with Marcus, a devoted father and a well-meaning but clueless husband, 27 hours with Edward, a feckless philanderer who cited work as the reason to abandon Serena in her hour of need).
'You have terrible taste in men.'
'I know. Not that he was much help but it might have been a wake up call to have been there when Elinor was born.'
'I've never thanked the universe more for Marcus right now.'
'Lucky you.'
There was a present for Bernie when they got home. A pale pink one arranged carefully over a chair.
'For me?'
'You said you'd wear it.'
'How much of a discount?'
'Can't tell you my secrets.' Serena winked.
Bernie could only stutter and smile at her.
A deal was a deal. She'd wear the coat forever.