Ill Conceived Plans

Family's what you make it

"What the fuck Sarah?"

"I mean what the holy son of a Tory were you thinking?

"This must be the most hair-brained idiotic thing you've ever ever come up with!"

This was the greeting from her best friend this morning – and she'd come bearing gifts and everything.

Yeah absolutely not what Sarah was expecting when she knocked on the door at Petra's house a week after her meeting with the boys. This was Petra's baby shower day but already it had turned into the Spanish Inquisition – Sarah-edition.

They had originally planned a triple party but with Emmy born early and everything happening with Sarah, she'd talked Petra into having a solo shower not wanting to put any strain on her still healing family or answer any awkward questions.

And there was a lot for Petra to celebrate, her little girl was healthy and growing well and finally she would be a mother after so many false starts.

She deserved to be spoilt, worshipped like a goddess! She deserved only the best! She deserved a good kick in the arse if she continued to drag her into the house like this. Her best friend grabbed her by the arm, the good one, and was manhandling her into down the hall. Both close to eight months pregnant they barely fit in the hallway together. Sarah was mildly worried they'd get stuck there and have to be hauled out by crane through the roof or have the wall cut open to get them out – just what Petra needed a new entrance to her living room.

Sarah frowned wondering if she should feign ignorance or just ring Dmitri now and give him a piece of her mind. She'd sworn those boys to secrecy. This had to be all done and dusted before "other parties" were let in on the whole thing and right now one of the "other parties" looked set to give her a good chewing out.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, standard manoeuvres in this case.

"And you can stop that right now!" Petra huffed.

"My brother sold you out completely, the gig is up so no getting testy with me or pretending not to know what I'm talking about.

"I know you Sarah Huntington –too damned well sometimes," she finished poking her friend in the breastbone.

"Ow bloody hell Petra – don't hurt the pregnant woman!" Sarah winged as they finally made it to the kitchen where George was making a cuppa for the pregnant women in his life before they headed off to Petra's mother's place the shower.

"I AM a pregnant woman so I can do what I bloody well like!" she said, reaching out and tweaking Sarah's ear – hard.

"Ow – now you're just being mean and I thought you'd be pleased – I'm helping your brother, you'll get a nice little niece or nephew – quarter Greek, quarter Scots and half English – just as it should be!" she said rubbing at her breastbone and ear in quick succession.

Petra huffed. "You're avoiding life again hiding away, avoiding doing the hard stuff! That's what you're doing. And I don't care if it's culturally correct!"

"Dmitri is a dead man," Sarah hissed and George tried not to laugh, he knew if he did he would be a dead man too, two hormonal pregnant women on the rant would be hell. He'd just throw cake and make no other sudden movements.

"Dmitri is a good boy!"

"Not that good – he is considering this," Sarah sighed and so did Petra "I know but he said he wanted to talk to Tom first."

Sarah rubbed her hand over her face and picked up the tea Geoge had carefully placed in front of her.

"Don't we all," she said so quietly Petra only just caught it. She looked at her friend with a mix of sorrow and frustration.