"Yeah, but have you ever actually been to Disney?" Mick asked with slight amusement in his voice.

I'd been telling him all morning about Lottie's passive aggressive tendencies these past few days, culminating this morning in her yelling at me that I wouldn't understand what she's going through because I've already been to Disneyland. 

"No!" I shout, venting my frustration over the whole situation to my best friend. From the way Mick glares at me, I'm rather thankful that it was him that was on the receiving end of my irritation and not Lottie. I can well imagine how she would have taken it. "Like, mate, I have no idea what she's going on about. One second she's normal and then suddenly, she's just a completely different girl. I love her but right now, with the attitude she's got, I can't say that-"

"Stop," Mick tells me. He holds up a hand and does a 'shut up' motion with it. Closing my mouth abruptly, I wait to hear what he has to say. "Do not finish that sentence because once those words are out, you can't un-say them and I can't un-hear them. I know you don't really want my opinion on this but I'm pretty sure that whatever is bugging Charlotte, it has nothing to do with Disneyland."

No shit, Sherlock. There's a ninety-nine percent chance that Lottie's attitude comes from the fact that I went to meet Alyssa last week. Well, given that Lottie started acting like this the second after I told her about the meeting, I'm pretty sure that it's most definitely that. Like, ninety-nine point nine percent. I'm just in denial about that point one percent because I'm hopeful that it's not really about that at all. 

I thought honesty was the best policy with Lottie but once I took her aside last week and told her about meeting Alyssa, it was like something inside flipped and she put up defences that I thought were long gone. Anything I said was met with the phrase, "Yeah, fine, whatever." Even baby name suggestions were dismissed with a grumbled, "I thought I was the one that was choosing but yeah, suggestions are always cool."

Talking to a brick wall would have been easier these past few days. 

"What exactly happened with you and Alyssa after, then?" Mick asks. He sits on the edge of the couch and watches me while I attempt to fit all of Lottie's soft furnishings into a cardboard box. "Are you serious about this party thing for Martha? No, wait, I have a better question. Does Martha know about Alyssa and this party you want to throw?"

I nod. "I broke the news to Martha yesterday."

"How did that go?"

"Let's just say, there's a reason that I'm hiding out here, packing up Lottie's flat, instead of being at my place, napping because I've worked three long shifts in a row," I explain. 

Our offer of the house had been accepted and the estate agent told us that we could have the keys by the end of next week, seeing as the solicitors were quick to get the paperwork sorted. I thought that this would be a great opportunity for Lottie and me to get back on track, although it now seems that my hopes were too high. Still, I knew that we needed to start boxing things up and as we've been living on my houseboat, for the most part, packing Lottie's flat would be a walk in the park. Plus, her furniture would be better suited to the new place which is why it gets to go in first. My things would have to fit around her stuff, if any of it actually got to stay. 

Despite feeling exhausted from work and wanting desperately to sleep, I roped Mick into helping me out. As soon as he finished work, he came over to the flat armed with moving boxes, and got to work, starting in the kitchen. He was done in ten minutes; Lottie's kitchen was more like a showroom kitchen rather than a lived in one. She's probably never even used the oven. 

Meanwhile, back in the living area, I've bubble wrapped countless Jo Malone candles- not sure who Jo Malone is, but why the hell do they have so many scented candles?- and made sure to keep all Lottie's books in order. They are organised via height and then organised into genres, and then to top it all off, the books are sorted in alphabetical order. All the cushions that decorated her sofas are now in boxes and soon enough all the photo frames will be wrapped and packed. 

"I take it Martha is on Team Charlotte," my best friend commented, rather than asked. Rather helpfully, Mick cut up some bubble wrap and threw it at my face when he saw me pick up one of the frames that adorned the side table. "I'm going to say something radical-"

"You're on Team Charlotte, too?" I guessed. Mick nods and doesn't even apologise for it. "Look, I'm not a complete idiot that I can't see you're all right about this. I don't trust Alyssa as far as I can throw her but she wants to be there for Martha- am I supposed to deny her that?"

Mick scoffs. "Yes. No offence, but Alyssa is a bitch. I've told you this for years. Isaac-" he uses my real name, a sign that he was about to get serious on me. "-I saw how you got after every court battle, each time you had to put Martha on the place, whenever you had to say goodbye on the phone. I was there for all of that and you may have forgotten about it or you're in denial about it but I am not going to placate you with lies and pander to your ego. That's not what best friends do.  So, yes, I'm Team Charlotte but more importantly, I'm Team Martha and if she's against Alyssa, so am I."

"I didn't forget," I tell him. Abandoning my chore, I move to the sofa and sit with my elbows resting on my knees, head in hands. "I remember everything she did, Mick. She let me believe for months that I was going to be a dad and then cruelly took that away from me. Then it turns out that I am the dad and I missed out on what was supposed to be the best days of my life. She dragged me through every court going and made the last seventeen years a nightmare. But do you know what? She still let me see Martha, let me talk to her, let me be there for the important things. Sue me if I want to do the same for her."

As much as I don't like Alyssa, I can't deny that she's Martha's mum. Do I wish that things were different? Of course. Life would be easier if I'd never have met Alyssa, if I hadn't made her my girlfriend, if we hadn't slept together... But then again, Martha would never have existed and I cannot imagine life without her. For all the headaches and the fighting, the sarcastic comments and the heart attack inducing crap she pulls on me, life would be duller without my daughter in it. 

Yes, I can hate Alyssa for how she's behaved. I cannot hate her for giving me something so precious. Catch-22. 

"You know what? Sometimes you're too good," Mick laughs, no trace of humour in his words. He moves to sit next to me and looks around the half empty room. "Remember last time one of us moved?"

I nod. "Oh, yes."

"Shame we're older now," Mick muttered. He took his phone from the pocket of his jeans and tapped out a message before throwing the device into my hands, the text thread on the screen for me to read. I laugh and quirk an eyebrow at my friend. He smiles broadly and shrugs his shoulders. "I never said that we were wiser." 

Knowing what was about to happen, Mick and I quickly finished packing as much of the living area as we could before making a start on the cupboard in the hallway. Inside, we found a stack load of Delaney family photos, many of which showed an awkward, teenaged Lottie smiling at the camera with the flash reflecting off her braces. Ok, they weren't that bad, but they weren't that good either. Not that I would be the first in line to tease her about it because I'm pretty sure when we first visit Australia, Mum will have the photo albums out, ready and waiting. That's a horror no one should face. Mick had some fun looking at some of the artwork that was hidden behind a stack of bed sheets, commenting that they were 'strange yet strangely cool.' 

The bed sheets, however, were floral and so kitsch that I would never even look at them in a shop, let alone pay decent money for. Oh, and there was a bright red dress hanging from the rail that looked nothing like what Lottie would wear, yet a Polaroid photo hidden deep in the corner of the cupboard would attest otherwise. 

Going through Lottie's things seemed too personal but as I flipped through some more photographs, I felt connected to her more than ever. There were pictures of her from when she was a kid, surrounded by her sisters, while another showed her cradling her brother while Emma stared at the wrinkly baby with clear disgust. I found black and white photos of Lottie when she was at university and an image of her beaming at the camera on the opening day of her business. A few pictures were of her with random men I've never seen before and I could safely say that I would beat them, hands down, in a lineup. One photo had the words le Bal des Débutantes Paris 2007 written on the back just above the names Charlotte & Hugo.  

Now, I may not understand French all the much despite trying my best to learn, but even I know what le Bal des Débutantes means. It means that Charlotte Louise Clément Delaney was a debutant. How high society of her. 

Before I got the chance to say anything, the intercom buzzed, Dan's voice filling the space. Mick got up to let the troops in and soon enough, Dan, Elias and Sam were here along with Adam and Lucas. 

"Hey, I never knew Lottie was a deb," I comment to her brother. 

Lucas laughs. "Haha. I would never go so far as to call her that, though. Mum had to drag her to the party. Sophie and Emma both went voluntarily-"

"Wait, Soph was a deb, too?" Dan- her husband- scoffed. "What idiot decided that she would meet that criterion? I understand Charlotte because she's refined and all, but Soph? No way. How come you weren't a deb?"

"Because I am, to this day still, a man," Lucas answered honestly. "I was, however, a cavalier a few years ago. Right, we bought everything that was on your list, Michael, and a few extra things. Sam insisted on Goldschläger. Any takers?"

I shook my head. "No, thank you. The last time we drank shit like that, Mick and I ended up in a gay bar. Best night out ever."

The guys laughed, especially Sam. Upon hearing him, Mick turned to Lottie's best friend and said, "Yo, Sam. I've been meaning to ask- what does a guy have to do to poach your executive assistant?"

"Martha?" Sam's eyes bugged out at the prospect of Martha leaving him. "Yeah, she's not going anywhere. I literally could not live without her."

Mick sighed. "Fine. I think after a few shots, I may be able to change your mind. Now, in which of these fifteen boxes did I pack the glasses?" Mick looked at the pile of boxes that were neatly pushed up against a wall and frowned. "Ah, fuck it. Drinking out of the bottle it is then. Dibs on the Johnny Walker!"

Hello, once again, my peeps. 

Here's your mid-week update. 

I don't have much to say, so I'll keep this brief-

YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME! 

Now, I'm not one that usually cares about statistics when it comes to my stories but Baby on Board now has 281k+ reads which makes it my second most read- YH1NM is #1 with 616k+ reads. 

In context, YH1NM is going to be 3 years old in September and it's taken that long to get to that number (which isn't all that high but I never expected ONE person to read it, let alone have over 600,000 reads). 

Baby on Board isn't even a full seven months old yet and already look at what it's achieved. That is due to you all and I cannot thank you enough for stopping by, taking the time to read/vote/comment on this. Honestly, without you all, this story would not exist, so- thank you, thank you, thank you!!!

I know I frustrate you a lot, especially with Nugget's gender, but I am so thankful for you all and I promise I won't keep it a secret for much longer!

See you on Sunday, peeps.

Sarah, xx