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Frankie hurried over and took the bags off her brother. A peek inside revealed a nice array of red wine and bottles of spirits.

Rocco placed the crate of beer on the counter-top then rubbed his wrists which had deep welts from where the bags had cut into his flesh. ‘I’ve left more beer, the bags of ice and white wine outside as it’s probably colder there than in your fridge.’ Rocco took a step back to look at his sisters. ‘You’re looking very fine, the pair of you.’

‘Do I look very pregnant in this?’ Valentina asked.

‘Yes,’ Rocco and Frankie replied in unison.

‘I mean, you’re ten days away from your due date,’ Frankie pointed out. ‘You look gorgeous.’ And Valentina really did. She was wearing a burgundy cashmere dress which brought out the blue of her eyes. Her hair, thanks to pregnancy hormones, was thicker and bouncier and fell just below her shoulders in soft blonde waves.

Frankie had her hair in a loose chignon with little curling tendrils slipping loose in what seemed like a naturally haphazard way but had taken a painstaking amount of time and hairspray to achieve. The green of her dress made Frankie’s skin glow, along with the shimmery bronzer she’d dusted over her chest and shoulders. Frankie felt good.

And of course Rocco looked as handsome as usual. Frankie leant a little closer to him and sniffed.

‘New aftershave?’ Frankie asked.

‘Uh, yeah. Thought I’d treat myself.’

‘Nice.’

‘And a new shirt,’ Valentina added. ‘I saw him sneak in a Reiss bag after his Christmas shopping day in Glasgow.’

Rocco flashed them a smile as he got out his phone. ‘Come on, huddle in. I’ll post it on the family WhatsApp.’

‘Be careful of the angle and don’t make me look too massive!’ Valentina said as they smiled for the photo.

Rocco sent it off and a moment later his phone pinged.

‘It’s Mum. She sent “my beautiful babies” and three love heart emojis.’

‘Do you think I’ll still be calling bubba a baby in his or her thirties?’ Valentina asked.

‘Yeah,’ Frankie said.

‘Probably,’ Rocco agreed.

With a look of longing toward the mince pies, which still had steam rising from them, Valentina settled for helping herself to a gingerbread biscuit that Frankie had baked and iced that afternoon. ‘Mum’s right, we all look fabulous. You two might even pull.’ She took a bite then addressed Frankie through a mouthful of crumbs. ‘But don’t put all your eggs in Ben’s basket. He might not even turn up.’

Valentina had taken a very dim view of Ben standing up Frankie in the bar the previous Saturday.

‘I’ve no eggs for anyone’s basket. Tonight I’m here to merely facilitate others in the pursuit of love,’ Frankie said as she put some more snacks on the coffee table in front of her sofa, including delicious little stilton puff-pastry parcels, which had started Valentina moaning about not being able to eat blue cheese.

Luckily, she didn’t have to worry about Gilbert snaffling the lot in one go as her mum and dad had taken the dogs for the night.

‘Is this everyone who’s coming? You’ve not had any call-offs, have you?’ Rocco asked as he pulled Frankie’s A4 pad toward him to peruse the names she’d scribbled down.

‘That’s the full guest list.’

Rocco tapped the pad with his index finger. ‘Frankie, who’s Jay?’

‘Oh. That’s Jay.’

Rocco gave her a sardonic look.

She cleared her throat. ‘Jay Costello.’

Rocco stared at her and Valentina sucked in her breath.

Frankie started to feel a bit panicky. Rocco’s expression was inscrutable.