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Robyn felt a rush of connection, hearing how it wasn’t just her whose life had been thrown off course by a man.

‘And we hear you’ve been following your dream,’ Amber said.

‘Yes, I’ve now worked on every continent,’ Robyn said, ‘and enjoyed every single one of them. Although there have been low points, like when I got bitten on the bum by a spider in Australia and couldn’t sit down for a week.’

‘Here’s to strong women,’ Wren said, raising her glass. ‘I love you all.’

The other women all joined her, clinking their glasses together.

‘Wren tells us you came to Fox’s rescue,’ said Isabella, cupping her chin in her hands.

‘How are you finding it?’ Wren asked. Robyn took a sip of the wine – it was cold and crisp, perfect.

‘It’s been good so far,’ she said. ‘No problems.’

‘You know he’s known as the hot dad of Honeybridge?’ Amber asked, raising one eyebrow knowingly.

Robyn laughed, thinking she did, probably, know it better than most. She glanced at Willow bouncing on Wren’s lap.

‘What do you think?’ Isabella pressed, leaning in. ‘Hot dad?’

All eyes turned to her but before she had to answer, Amber cut in.

‘I heard the school mums have been devastated this week because you’ve been doing pick-up and drop-off.’ Amber laughed. ‘They normally swarm around him like bees round honey . . .’

Robyn laughed again. She’d been asked several times at school whether Fox was with her.

‘And now he’s rich and famous too, he’s the most eligible bachelor in town,’ Amber finished.

‘Especially seeing as Etienne is off the market now and soon to be married to Isabella!’ Wren added.

‘And Alex is madly in love with you,’ Isabella pointed out to Amber.

‘And Walker is currently out of the country visiting your cousin, Gabi, on her latest film set . . .’ Amber acknowledged.

‘It’s true, we do have all the most gorgeous men in our friendship group!’ Isabella raised her glass of wine.

‘Or our beds . . .’ Amber grinned and the two women clinked glasses.

‘You’ll get to meet everyone while you’re here,’ Wren said.

‘Looking forward to it,’ Robyn replied, caught up in the connection between the women, the way they leaned into one another, practically finishing each other’s sentences. It struck her suddenly that she’d missed that. For the past four months, it had just been her and Willow. And as much as she loved her, Willow wasn’t the best conversationalist. She gurgled now, sucking on her knuckles.

‘We go to yoga on Tuesday afternoons if you fancy it? There’s a crèche,’ Rosie suggested.

‘Yes, come,’ said Isabella.

‘Do you all go?’

Amber nodded. ‘I like to improve my flexibility for the bedroom.’

Wren snorted, putting a hand to her stomach that was almost touching the table. ‘Lucky you. I can’t even touch my toes at this point in time.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ said Robyn, already imagining how she’d feel putting Willow into a crèche. Even for an hour.

‘There is loads coming up: the meatball meet-up, the masked ball . . .’ said Amber.

‘And then hopefully you’ll still be here for my wedding at Christmas?’ Isabella asked.