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Before long, Mum knocks on my flat door. I’m on my way to open it when I remember the scan photo. Crap! It’s lying out on the work surface. I snatch it up and hide it under my pillow, then I let her in.

“Mum! This is a surprise.”

“Yes, well, it occurred to me that if I kept waiting for an invitation, I’d never see your new place, so I thought I’d just drop by.” She steps in and casts a critical eye around. It only takes her a few moments—there’s not a lot to see. “Have you been had? This flat isn’t much bigger than a box! I should be insulted you’d rather live here than with me.”

Grinding my teeth, I close the door behind her. I’m on edge. Mum is like Sherlock Holmes: from the most trivial of details, she can reach a conclusion before anyone else. I may not be showing yet, but that doesn’t mean I can let my guard down.

“This place has everything I need,” I say. “I’m quite happy here.”

“Hmm. Well, let’s have a look at you, then.” Mum holds me at arm’s length and does her usual thorough examination of me. “This is the first time I’ve seen you since we went to Bannock together. Not for want of trying on my part, but apparently you’ve been busy. Have you lost weight?”

How can she even tell through my cardigan?

“Have I? I hadn’t noticed.”

I have noticed. Losing weight in the first trimester isn’t uncommon, thanks to morning sickness. As for Mum’s comment about me being busy, I do feel bad that I’ve been avoiding her—especially with David having moved away—but I reckoned the easiest way to keep my pregnancy a secret was to see as little of her as possible.

I’ll have to tell her at some point, but not today. No, I’ll start off with Emily or David to ease myself into things. I need support from the first people I tell, not judgement.

“You’re not skimping on food to save money, are you?” She shifts her gaze to my tiny kitchen area.

“Of course not!”

“What do you use to prepare your meals? A microwave—is that all you’ve got?”

I go over to a kitchen cupboard and, from it, pull a portable two-ring stove. “I’ve got this too. I put it away when I’m not using it because there’s not much space on the work surface.”

There’s not much cupboard space either, but I don’t mention that. I don’t need to—it’s obvious.

“No oven? Grace, this setup is hardly ideal. And you don’t even have a washing machine!”

“There’s a laundrette close by.”

There is, but on parenting forums, I’ve seen mums talk about how babies go through multiple outfits a day. Not being able to machine-wash clothes at home is going to be a pain.

But it’s fine. In this compact space, I have more than many people in the world do. I’m grateful for that.

“Take a seat, Mum. The kettle has just boiled. Tea or coffee?”

“A coffee would be lovely.”

She sits at the table and, from her bag, pulls four wrapped presents. “This one is for you.” She places it aside. “It’s just a little thing. That’s good because if I’d opted for something bigger, you wouldn’t have had anywhere to put it.”

I ignore that comment and open the cupboard over the sink. Luckily, there’s a jar of instant coffee I took with me from the old place. Since Emily mentioned she was off caffeine, I’ve been avoiding it myself.

“The other presents are for you to take up to Bannock,” Mum goes on. “Something for Elspeth, for being a gracious host, and small gifts for Ally and Aidan, the birthday boys. You can say they’re from both of us.”

I fill her mug with boiling water. “Oh, Mum, I know I said I’d go up for the lunch this Monday, but I’ve been thinking about giving it a miss.”

“Nonsense! Is this about money? Because if so, I’ll pay your fare.”

“No, it’s not that.”

But Mum’s purse is already out of her bag and in her hands. She removes some notes.

“Mum, no! Thank you, but I don’t need a handout. I’m a grown woman—I can pay my own way.” I put her coffee on the table.

“Well, in any case, I’ll just leave these here.” She puts the cash down. “Please go up for the party? It’ll be good for you to see David and Emily.”