I wake up alone, the bedclothes cold. I gather up my pyjamas from where they were discarded last night and pull them on before wrapping a robe around me. It is after ten and I feel sheepish for having slept in so late. I make my way downstairs and find Taylor and Nicola mooching around, cups of coffee in hand.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Taylor calls across from the kitchen. “Coffee?”
“Please…” I mumble, in serious need of some caffeine. Yeah, yeah. I know you are supposed to go all decaf and s**t when you are pregnant, but I am like a bear with a sore head if I don’t get my morning fix. I tried, really tried, but I lasted only about a week before I caved, so now I just try to limit myself to one a day. I hop onto one of the barstools and gratefully take the latte that Taylor offers me. I si
