“Give me that, I’ll do it. Stand behind Rhys, Noor — the photographs need to look right.”
“It’s my reveal, Yolande.”
“Don’t be silly.”
The count went. The cannon went. Blue everywhere.
I turned to my husband with both arms coming up, and something went into my ribs hard enough to put me sideways two steps, and I got a hand onto my own stomach and a hand onto a chair.
Yolande was already round his neck, crying into his shoulder.
“My boy’s having a boy! My son’s heir! It carries on!”
Thirty people cheered. Both cameras kept running.
And over his shoulder, in my own garden, under the confetti, that woman looked straight at me and smiled.
Then she let go of him and came toward me with the same face on.
“There she is. Come here, Noor. We’re family.”
I could have done it loudly. The cameras were four feet away and every single person was watching.
Instead I smiled and opened my arms, and thirty people started clapping because they thought they were watching something lovely.
