Walking around the house, I opened every single door I found, peeking inside and quietly judging everything about this place. The grey colour scheme was cold. The black and white floor tiles were too monochromatic. The kitchen was too sterile. Nothing about this house screamed 'homely' to me and I couldn't hide my distaste as I ventured into another room, hot on the heels of Sam Courtenay. 

"So, this is the master bedroom," he said, proudly waving his arm across the space in front of him. "And through that door, you'll find the master bathroom and that door there leads into the walk-in closet."

I nod. "Cool."

Sam shot me a disapproving look as he pushed me out the door and across the hall to another room. The tour continued until we were back in the kitchen and were greeted by my sister and brother-in-law, both of whom were sat around the island in the centre of the room. Sophie and Daniel had helped themselves to a cup of tea each and were giggling about something, although I was too scared to ask what they were laughing about. Knowing these two, it was probably really dirty and nothing that anyone else should know about. Over sharing was a common theme with Sophie and Daniel. 

"What do you think of the house?" Sam asked me as we approached the kitchen island. He wore a hopeful look on his face, one that made me feel instantly guilty that I had to tell him how much I disliked this place. "It's great, isn't it?"

I frowned. "No, it is not great," I tell him. Sam and I have a pact where we don't lie to one another and so far, it's worked out pretty well. Except for now. Now would probably be the time to break that pact. Pulling out a chair next to Sophie, I send Sam an apologetic smile. "I still don't get why you're moving out."

Earlier this week, Sam hit me with the news that he was finally moving back into his own house, explaining that it was about time that I got the flat back to myself. Naturally, I had protested and told him that he could stay for eternity if he wanted, but Sam was adamant. He was determined, more so that usual whenever he got an idea into his head, and nothing I could say would sway him into staying. 

"Char," Sam sighed out my name. "Your flat only has two bedrooms and you'll be needing the guest one back in a few months because the baby will need a nursery. We've been through this twenty-seven times. Nothing you're going to say will change my mind."

Sadly- for me- I knew that this was true. Not the nursery thing, although that was a fact, but I knew Sam was determined to venture off on his own again. Originally, he'd bought Daniel's old house for it to be a home for him and his girlfriend, Jasmine Gough, and got extremely excited at the prospect of finally 'adulting.' Unfortunately, things didn't go to plan and Sam and Jasmine broke up. That's how Sam ended up being my flatmate for the past five months. Of course, Sam being Sam, he tried to patch things up with Jasmine but a few weeks ago, things on that front cooled down and he'd confided in me that the relationship was over and Jasmine had gone back to New York. 

Hence the move back into his own space. 

"Well, I think this is a positive step in the right direction," Sam's brother, Daniel, noted. He sent his brother a warm smile of reassurance, ignoring the deathly glare I sent him. "You need your own space and Charlotte will need hers. Let's not forget about the baby, too. If it doesn't have a room in Charlotte's house then it'll have to live on the houseboat with Isaac. Nobody deserves that."

Sophie snorted out her tea as it projectile towards Sam. She spluttered before looking between her husband and myself in horror. "A houseboat? Isaac lives on a houseboat? Like a boat that is a house?"

"Exactly like that," I nod in confirmation. Sensing that Sophie would go on a rant about how she has always known that Isaac is irresponsible, I hold my hand up to stop the oncoming stream of insults. "It's not that bad. It's actually quite nice and he has great views of the London skyline."

Despite my shock at seeing where Isaac lived, he and I had spent a rather enjoyable evening on the deck of the boat as I quizzed him on every detail of his life. I'd learnt a lot about his family- including how his mother's full name is Aphrodite, he has an aunt named Demeter and his grandmother is Athena- but I'd also learnt a lot about him that I don't think I'd ever have known had it not been for me asking. 

He plays the guitar and he started taking lessons from his next door neighbour when he was four years old. His next door neighbour, by the way, is an international rock star who is very famous. I forget his name but I remember being suitably impressed at the time. Isaac collects shot glasses. Whenever he goes abroad on his travels, he'll purchase a shot glass as a souvenir for himself. He seemed embarrassed by that revelation until I confided that I have a vast amount of snow globes that have come as far as Patagonia and Tokyo. Admittedly, the one from Tokyo took me ages to find but I was determined.

Oh, Isaac can also roll his tongue and when he was seventeen, he pierced his ear. It was cool at the time, he defended his choice. I still protested that it really wasn't cool and it never will be. Thank God that he'd let the hole close. He's also a really good cook and had taken lessons from his great-grandmother who hailed from Greece. She died when Isaac was in his early twenties but he still remembers how to make her famous baklava. 

"You know," Sophie's voice breaks through my memories of last week. "You could live in an apartment and still have great views of the London skyline. I don't see how living on a boat is going to work out with a baby. What if it gets seasick?"

I frown at my sister's words. "Ok, first of all, you two-" I point between Sophie and Daniel. "-My baby is not an 'it' so stop referring to it as 'it'-"

"Oh, the irony when you yourself refer to it as 'it' while lecturing us on not calling it 'it'," Daniel smirks. I pick up the nearest thing at hand and throw it at him, watching as the salt shaker hits the wall instead of its intended target. "I could have you arrested for attempted murder."

"The judge would acquit me because I was simply doing a public service," I counter. Sophie laughed at my comeback, pointing a finger at her husband's shocked face and insisting that she takes a photo to commemorate the occasion. While she's doing that, I turn back to Sam and put on my best puppy-dog look. "You sure that I can't persuade you to not move out?"

He shakes his head at me. "Nope. I think this will be good for me. Now that Jasmine and I are over, I can move on. Plenty of fish in the sea, and all that business. Enough about me, what are you doing for the rest of the day?"

The rest of my day involved going over to see Isaac and trying to persuade him to come to Easter Sunday Mass at St. Patrick's with my family and I. My father insists that I attend, even though I know that I'm going to earn the stares of everyone else there, and he's gently asked that Isaac attend alongside me. I was pretty sure that it wouldn't be his scene but I was still going to ask, just in case. 

Aside from that, I don't think I had much planned for today. Just sleeping. And eating. The baby tires me out but not before forcing me to gorge on delicious treats that Arnaud and Nate have been making especially for me. This baby is going to be born with a major sweet tooth, I warn you. 

When I check my watch and see that it's almost five in the afternoon. Isaac was about to finish work so I decided to meet him at the houseboat in order to ask him about Mass. Sophie offered to drive me to wherever it is Isaac lives but I turned her down, insisting that she only wanted to drive me so that she could find out where he lived and sneak there at stupid o'clock one night to spray paint his door. Daniel quirked an eyebrow at this piece of information while my sister tried to play innocent, insisting that she didn't know what I was talking about. 

Thankfully, that lie didn't wash with me, nor did it wash with Daniel. I left them to bicker and walked with Sam to the door. I gave him a big hug and insisted that he really needn't move out. The look he gave me in return was enough confirmation that he was leaving, no matter how much I begged him to stay. Luckily, he wasn't about to move out for another few weeks as he needed to redecorate and get some new furniture, so we had some time before he left. 

Making my way across London, I basked in the spring sunshine, glad to see the back of the wet winter we'd experienced. I didn't mind the rain but since I'd bought some maternity dresses last week, I was more than excited to wear them. My bump hadn't grown that much from what I could tell but whenever Isaac saw me after a few days of him working nights, he would always exclaim that I'd gotten bigger, in the nicest sense of the word. He would then proceed to place his hands against my stomach and speak gibberish to the baby. It made me laugh when he put on that voice but it was also endearing. Isaac insists that babies can hear you while they're in the womb and it was always a good idea to speak to them so that they could get used to your voice. I felt so stupid doing it but Isaac didn't care. 

Turning the corner, I found myself closer to Isaac's houseboat. A few hundred yards later and I was walking down the ramp that led to Isaac's place. It was quiet and calm, but then loud voices from somewhere pierced the serenity. It wasn't until I was on the deck of Isaac's houseboat that I realised that the shouting was coming from inside and the door was wide open, giving me front row seats to an argument that was playing out inside.

A tall blonde- utterly gorgeous- was pacing the living area while a younger woman was sat on the couch, watching the first woman with an unamused glare. Isaac, meanwhile, sat in an armchair with his back to me. From here, I could see his head in his hands, and his shoulders were tense, indicating his frustration. 

"You need to act your age!" The first woman shouted.

"I don't know how to act my age," the younger blonde snarled. "I've never been this age before."

"Do you see what I mean?" The exasperated woman turned to Isaac and threw her arms up in the air. "I cannot keep going on like this, Sac."

The other woman barked out a laugh. "Maybe if you weren't such a bitch, I wouldn't be acting like this."

"Do not insult me," the woman snapped. "Stop being a brat."

"I'm not insulting you," the second woman said with an accompanying eye roll. "I'm describing you. And I'm not being a brat. I'm a sweetheart. I'm honestly the best person you will ever meet. I'm amazing. My future husband doesn't even deserve me. I want a divorce already."

A cry of frustration echoed out from the living room and I couldn't help but wince as the sound hit me. I think I may have given a slight cream as I jumped from the shock of the noise because as soon as I opened my eyes, everyone was watching me. 

"Lottie?" Isaac's voice was filled with questions. "What are you doing here?"

"I, uh..." Looking from one person to another to another in the room, I was starting to wonder why I was here myself. "It's not important. I can come back another time."

"Is she another of your one night stands?" The irate woman stood in the centre of the room asked Isaac while a finger was pointed in my direction. "Jesus Christ, Sac. Is this really an appropriate example to set?"

"You're one to talk!" The younger blonde guffawed. Her blue eyes, familiar yet strange, fell on me. She beamed in my direction but I could tell that it wasn't genuine but more for show, like she was deliberately siding with anyone but the other woman. "You've slept with half of Sydney. I have heels higher than your standards, Alyssa. At least Dad has taste."

"That's it!" The older woman- Alyssa?- cried out. Spinning on her heels, she grabbed her handbag from the side table behind her, threw it over her shoulder and stomped towards the door. She paused briefly to turn back to Isaac. "Good luck. You'll need it."

Moving out of the way just in time, I watched the woman leave. Her disappearance had an immediate effect as the tension within the living room dissipated and Isaac let out a long sigh of relief. 

"You and I will be having words later," he threatened the woman that was left. Standing, he made his way over to me and wrapped me into a hug, whispering an apology to me before he led me into the living room. "Charlotte, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Martha Fletcher. Martha, this is Charlotte Delaney, my... uh... friend?"

Martha laughed. Unlike before, it was natural and relaxed. "Friend? If you say so, Dad." Turning to me, Martha smiled politely and came to stand before me, holding out her hand. "I'm sorry if I came across as a... what did she call me? A brat?"

"That's the one," Isaac confirmed.

"I'm not really like that usually," Martha confessed. Her cheeks were flushed. "It's just, Alyssa and I bring out the worst in each other. I'm really a happy little fucker. Usually. On my better days."

Isaac groaned. "Martha!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Martha dismissed his tone. Her eyes roamed across my face, down my body and back up again. She frowned and turned her attention to Isaac. "Hey, Dad? When were you planning on telling me that I was going to be a big sister?"

Happy Sunday! I hope you all had an awesome week.

Ok, so Martha has finally arrived! Thoughts? I know it's a little early to tell but she's going to be fun.

And Alyssa's here, too. What does that mean for Isaac and Charlotte's relationship?

Sam's moving out! 😭 Don't leave, Sam.

And Sam is now single. Is it time to find him a girlfriend?

Have a great week! Oh, and if you know who Manah is and you've been patiently waiting for an update... Keep an eye out this week! 😘

Sarah xx