PERFECT
Stephanie squeezed her Mercedes-Benz between the rows of cars in search of a parking space. As luck would have it, she spotted a florist’s van pulling out just ahead. Flicking on her indicator as a warning to the young lad in the souped-up Subaru behind, she manoeuvred her car into the empty space. The Subaru driver glared at her and roared past.
Switching off the ignition, she gazed at the nondescript, red-brick semi opposite.
‘It’s a boy!’ screamed the blue and silver banner across the white front door. Blue and white balloons attached to the knocker bobbed in the breeze.
Stephanie’s stomach clenched anxiously and, for a few moments, she actually contemplated turning her car around and heading back home. After all, her son David had made it quite clear on the phone that he wasn’t bothered whether she came or not.
She sighed, wondering for the umpteenth time where she had gone wrong. David had been such a sweet, compliant boy. Could the loss of
