Gemma was jiggling up and down in her chair, wine sloshing all over her hand.

“You’re pregnant! You’re having a baby!”

“I might not be. I might just be late.” It seemed so improbable, as if just by remembering her period was late, she could instantly make herself pregnant.

“Let’s see your stomach!” Gemma reached over for Cat’s T-shirt and pulled it up. They both contemplated her stomach and Gemma poked it gently with her finger.

“Hello, little baby,” she said. “Are you in there?”

“I don’t think it shows after three weeks,” said Cat.

Gemma put one hand flat against Cat’s stomach and one hand against her own.

“Ooooh, I think you’re fatter!”

“I’ve got one of those pregnancy kits in the bathroom.” Cat tried to keep her voice casual. “From the last time I was late. That was the time my period arrived as soon I got home from the chemist.”

She watched Gemma waver at the possibility of a definite answer. She knew exactly what she was thinking: I don’t want to be here if she finds out she’s not pregnant.

“I bet I’m not,” said Cat. “It’s probably just stress.”

“Come on.” Gemma stood up. “Let’s do it.”

They sat on the edge of the bath and read the instructions together.

“It sounds a bit complicated,” said Gemma, but Cat had just been thinking the opposite. It was too simple, too matter-of-fact. How dare this smug little plastic stick have the power to decide her future?

“Two blue lines I’m pregnant, one blue line I’m not. Can’t get much simpler than that. You can give me some privacy now thanks.”

Gemma closed the bathroom door behind her and then quickly opened it again to vigorously wave a hand with tightly crossed fingers.

Cat looked at herself in the mirror and felt strangely disoriented. Are you a mother? For a minute she saw Lyn’s face looking calmly back at her.

Lyn said more than once she’d had the experience of being in a shopping center and waving hello to Cat, only to feel like an idiot when she realized she was waving at her own reflection.

It had never happened to Cat. She knew her own reflection perfectly well, and she hated it. She disliked nothing more than accidentally catching sight of herself in a mirror, especially if she was smiling. There was something so naked and pathetic about that unexpected sight of her foolishly happy face.

They weren’t identical. Lyn had something indefinable, something special, something Cat had missed out on.

“Are you done yet?” called Gemma.

“Give me a minute.”

Cat looked at the little plastic stick. Let’s see what you’ve got to say for yourself.

She and Gemma sat on the cold bathroom tiles with their glasses of wine and their backs propped against the bathtub, while they waited for the stick to make up its mind.

Cat took off her watch and set the timer. “You can look for me,” she said. “I can’t look.”

“O.K.” Gemma hugged her knees to her. “This is very exciting. I feel like I’m practically part of the baby’s conception!”

“Well, I hope that doesn’t mean you’ve slept with Dan too,” said Cat.

“No. Actually, I’ve never been the slightest bit attracted to him.”

Cat felt unreasonably miffed at this. “I don’t see why not. He’s good enough for me. Good enough for Lyn. Good enough for what’s-her-face, Angela.”

“Well, if you’re offering him. I mean, I’d choose him over Michael, any day.”

“Oh, God yes,” said Cat with satisfaction. “He’d be terrible in bed. All eager and skinny.”

Gemma hooted. “Yes, poor Lyn. I bet when he comes he does that little triumphant punch-in-the-air thing he does when we’re playing tennis.”

Cat snorted so hard her wine went up her nose and Gemma had to slap her on the back.

Cat picked up her watch. Only a minute to go. She was feeling a little hysterical. “Dan’s sexually skilled, you know,” she said. “It’s like he’s got a talent for it.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard.”

Cat looked at Gemma, who had her head tipped back and seemed to be swilling her wine at a remarkably fast pace. “I beg your pardon? Is that what Lyn said?”

Gemma put down her glass and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “I always remember the first time you slept with Dan you actually snuck out of bed to call me,” she said. “You told me it was the most incredible experience of your entire life. Marcus and I had a big fight about it.”

“That’s right.”

Cat had a sudden memory of herself, the sleeves of Dan’s football shirt dangling sexily past her wrists, whispering into the phone. Tender lips from too much kissing. Sticky thighs.

“But why did you and Marcus fight about it?”

Gemma looked away. “I don’t remember. Is it time?”

Cat looked at the watch. “Yes,” she said. Now she was coldly calm. “Two lines I’m pregnant, one line I’m not. Don’t stuff it up.”

She stayed sitting while Gemma got to her feet and picked up the stick from the cabinet. Cat looked at her hands. There was silence. Gemma sat back down on the floor next to Cat.

“It doesn’t matter.” Cat felt tears blur her eyes. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”