I honestly don't know how Clark Reiss is still in business; the man is an absolute idiot who is not open to reasoning and genuinely believes that new mothers, especially first-time ones, want to have a gin bar to relax in. This past week, we've been trying to come up with concepts for our joint business venture but it's impossible to work with a twat like Clark. 

I've told him this, too. In several languages, if I may add. He still won't listen to any of my ideas and I'm seriously considering going ahead with my plans to open up a baby-friendly coffee shop without him. I mean, I did it before, I can do it again; it won't be that hard. I've done some market research and I think there's a gap in the market for it. So many mums nowadays are stigmatised for the fact that they breastfeed in public or they get stared at by other patrons when the baby gets a bit vocal and people are quick to be judgemental about parenting styles, it's creating a headache for mums who want to just be mums. Last week, someone tutted at me for breastfeeding Sera on a park bench. Look, if my baby is hungry, I'm and damn well going to feed her. 

That's how I settled on my latest project. Clark, however, is totally oblivious to what we mothers really want. He's been looking at some upmarket building in a really wealthy part of London, wanting to open a gin bar that will appeal to young mums who want to get away from their 'nightmares' once in a while. I told him what the biggest problem was- no mother will want to leave their babies for long and so, profits would be low. No, what he needed in his portfolio was exactly what I was suggesting. 

"I, for one, think it's a great idea," Jenna Marshall beams at me from across the kitchen table. For some bizarre reason, the guys think that it's time we recreated our disastrous quadruple date from a few weeks ago, only this time, we're doing it at our house because I couldn't get anyone to babysit Sera. That hardly mattered, though, seeing as we had more people here tonight and it was a far more relaxing atmosphere. Jenna and Sophie were even getting along better. "I mean, I'd come and use the place, Charlotte."

Daniel frowned. "You'd first need to have a baby. Nola doesn't count because she's over the terrible twos by quite some years."

"I am well aware, thank you, Daniel," Jenna retorted. With a quick sideways glance at her husband, Elias, Jenna's smile widens. "Actually, this is the perfect time to announce something to you all. Elias and I are expecting a baby. We're due next spring."

I'm sure that this would be the most appropriate time for everyone to go overboard with their congratulations but no one said a word. You could hear the seconds ticking by on the clock, which was odd. I haven't heard that sound since we first moved in. Nevertheless, Jenna and Elias fidgeted nervously as they waited for someone to disturb the sound of silence. 

"You know, we already knew, right?" Daniel is the first to speak. He shakes his head and looks around us all, one by one, before his gaze settles back on the couple in question. "We've actually planned a party for you because we thought you weren't twelve weeks along until-"

"Next week," Isaac helpfully chimed in. 

Daniel nods. "Yeah, next week. Blew your load early, pal."

"For the second time in eleven weeks, it seems," Mick interjected, giving Adam a high-five for his really childish comment. 

Everyone began to congratulate the couple, asking all sorts of questions, such as when exactly was the baby due, had they told Nola yet, did they want a girl or a boy, et cetera. Emma and I said that we were happy for them but we were both aware that Sophie was silent. She had a fake smile plastered on her face, but that was all. Unfortunately for her, Emma and I could read Sophie like a book and we knew that behind that external facade, there was some inner turmoil that she needed to get off her chest. 

"Where's your bathroom, again?" Emma asked, a little louder than necessary. Her blue eyes moved to mine and she did a left-eye wink, followed by a right-eye wink, and then two left-eye winks again. Oh, it's the code! "Man, I need to pee after all those glasses of wine. Excuse me."

Five minutes later, after Sera had fallen asleep in my arms, I announced that I would be taking her up to bed. While I was there, I was going to ask Sophie to come and check out the dress I'd bought for the Courtenay Ball in a few week's time, knowing that she wouldn't be able to resist passing comment on my choice. 

We successfully put Sera down without waking her up and then I dragged my older sister into the master bedroom, guiding her to the walk-in wardrobe where Emma was waiting for us. She must have been in here for a while because she was surrounded by a few pairs of heels while forcing her size-too-big feet into another pair. Like a rabbit caught in the headlights, she dropped the shoe boot and let it fall with a thud before smiling at me in the fakest way possible. 

"So, where's this dress?" Sophie asked, her voice void of enthusiasm. She sat down in the armchair that was in the corner of the space and tapped her fingers against the arm. I dutifully pulled the garment bag from its hiding place behind another large garment bag and unzipped it. Sophie's eyes scanned the gown and she nodded in approval. "It's lovely."

Emma sighed and gave me an exasperated stare. "Ok, she's broken. Charlotte, fix Sophie."

Before Sophie could argue and tell us she didn't need fixing, I came right out and asked if everything was ok. Naturally, Sophie answered in the most Sophie-like way and insisted that she was ok, that there was nothing wrong, that everything was dandy in the world of Danphie. I have no idea what a Danphie is, but I knew that it wasn't 'dandy' at all. 

"Fine," Sophie finally said, throwing her arms up dramatically. "Daniel and I are trying for a baby and it's... it's... well, it's not happening. There, happy? We want a baby but because of my fucked up body, we can't have one. And then you have people like you and Jenna who gets pregnant almost immediately and it's not fair. I want a baby, too."

Taken aback, I can't formulate words as I process what Sophie said. She's never been one who was interested in having children but now that I see how sad she is at the prospect of being unable to have one, maybe she's kept her desires well hidden. When she had a miscarriage in her early twenties, she shrugged it off and carried on like she was all the better for not having kids. All that was a lie. 

"Sophie-"

"Please don't try and assure me that it'll happen, Emma," Sophie snaps. Her frustration is clear and we all know she doesn't mean to speak to Emma like that, it's just that she can't help it. "We've been trying for months, almost since our wedding night, and every month, Mother fucking Nature still visits. I am sick and tired and it's putting us under so much strain. Daniel's better at hiding it but I know he's starting to regret marrying me. I won't be able to give him a baby."

I roll my eyes. "Ok, first of all, stop talking nonsense. Daniel is not regretting marrying you. That man adores you to the deepest, darkest, undiscovered parts of the galaxy so don't ever talk such shit again. Secondly, falling pregnant is a fluke. It won't happen instantly but it will happen, Soph. You will make an amazing mother, I know that. We all know that. Right, Emma?"

"Duh," Emma says in a really goofy voice. She's trying to bring a little humour into Sophie's like and for the briefest second, a smile flickers over our sister's face. "Knowing you, Soph, you'll have triplets on your first try and then you'll be wishing you hadn't had sprogs in the first place. Just wait, though, babe, because it'll happen."

We stay in the wardrobe a little while longer and Sophie gives her honest verdict on the gown I've chosen for the Ball on November 5th. Her nose turns up slightly at seeing it once more, followed by her announcing that I needed something with a little more pizzazz. She goes on to assure me that she'll find something in her arsenal of vintage dresses and then tells us how glad she is that she jumped ship from British Vogue when she did. A few of her friends that had stayed at the magazine post-Alexandra had been in touch, bitching about the new editor that they had now. Sophie was sure that the bloke wasn't that bad but it wouldn't be the same magazine without the old staff there. Whether the changes were going to be a success was anyone's guess. 

Emma lamented about working for our mother and how full on it had been in the past few weeks. They'd been on their travels, attending fashion show after fashion show before having their own runway in Paris recently. Emma, having been out of that fashion world for a few years, was shocked with how tiring it all was; she kept saying how she needed at least a month to recover but Mum was adamant that they start to look ahead to the next showcase. 

"Are you sure you don't want to rejoin the family business?" Emma asked Sophie, reminding us all of how Sophie first entered that world. Sophie crinkled up her nose and her body shook as a dramatic shiver travelled down her spine. "Charlotte, what about you? Fancy being part of all that?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm perfectly fine being out of that scene. Plus, I was never a fashionista like you two. I was always more Delaney than Clément in that sense. If things don't work out with Clark, I'm thinking of asking Dad if he fancies taking on my project."

"I don't think Dad will go for that," Emma tells me. Her words are very assured like she knows something that we don't. Sophie and I glare at her until she cracks under pressure. "Alright, you've badgered it out of me! Horrible, horrible, horrible people you are! I think Dad may be on the verge of retiring from the company. You did not hear this from me. Blame Mum. She told me."

"I doubt that's true," Sophie is the first to react. "But if it is, good on him. I'd love to retire. I hate being an adult. Charlotte, you should tell Seraphina to stay a baby forever."

Laughing, I nod. We three chat for a little while longer before we're interrupted by Isaac, and hot on his heels is Mick. They both stare at us with confusion and then shrug their shoulders as they leave, muttering something about women being weird creatures. When Emma comments on the fact that we've been up here for thirty minutes, Sophie and I share a concerned glance that lasts a moment but then disappears as quickly as it came. 

"I'm guessing that was our cue to go back down to the party," Emma says. "Shame, I was quite enjoying it up here. I now have to go an socialise with my husband. Like I don't see enough of him at home! Come on, bitches, I want some Prosecco. Got any, Charlotte?"

"That depends," I choose my words carefully. "Are you going to drink the bottle dry?"

Emma replies with a breezy, Of course, and then skips down the stairs while repeating the word 'Prosecco' in a melodic voice. It's a good job Adam is here, otherwise, Sophie and I would have to rock-paper-scissors to see who had the joy of putting Emma to bed.

Ok, so you will have noticed, or will soon notice, that I haven't posted Pitter Patter. There are two reasons for that:

1. I didn't have time to finish it because some things went down in work this week and it's drained all my energy. I didn't want to give you a half-arsed short story, so I'm going to work on what I've got a little more.

2. I'm going to keep the short story until November 5th! You'll see why then.

I kinda liked spending some time with the Clément-Delaney girls! I've missed Sophie and I have a certain amount of fondness for Emma. 

And, yeah, Jenna and Elias are having a baby (not of great importance, but still...)

I'll see you all on Wednesday! 

Sarah xx