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Godmother’s supposed to do!’
    Grace had thought she might get that reaction from Frannie, but the old lady had been a big part of her life, especially around the time she’d started having problems with Mark.  She’d been like a grandmother to her, a calming influence, and given that Frannie would never have grandchildren of her own, it would be wonderful to formally mark her inclusion in her own children’s upbringing.  She was a wise old woman, as well as having a wicked sense of humour, and Grace hoped she would be there to see her through the twins’ early years, as a minimum.  Knowing Frannie, she’d live to be a hundred and five, and be bright as a button until the day she popped her clogs.  The twins could well be grown and gone before Frannie departed this earth.
    ‘I’ll tell you what,’ Frannie began, ‘much as I’d simply love to be Godmother, I will do it as long as you choose two of your fit, young and healthy friends to be proper Godmothers too.  Just in case I turn up my toes someday soon, you know.  I’ll be your little baby daughter’s Fairy Godmother, how about that?  A crazy old lady in her life who will bring a bit of madness and sprinkle fairy dust on her.  Every child should have one.  I’ll have to get myself a sparkly magic wand and a tutu.  And then when she’s a bit older, I’ll teach her how to smoke pot.’   She looked to Grace for a reaction.  ‘That last bit was a joke.  The tutu wasn’t, though.  Gerald would love me in pink tulle.’
    Grace laughed at Frannie’s suggestion.  To be honest, the recreational side of things – minus the drugs, of course – was more in keeping with Grace and Tom’s view of the role a Godparent should play in a child’s life.  Neither was particularly religious, but they both liked the formality of a Christening ceremony and the idea of marking and celebrating their children’s arrival into the world, and then finding some lovely friends or family members who would mean something special in their lives.  ‘Oh thank you Frannie, that’s brilliant.’  She kissed her friend on the cheek and gave her a hug.
    ‘Anyway, I won’t stop for that cuppa just now, Grace, my dear.  I just wanted to pop across and make sure you were alright with… well, everything, you know,’ she said, ‘but I can see you are, and what a lovely thing you have asked me, I’m truly honoured.’  She raised her eyebrows in the direction of Mark, who was now back from the shed and hovering with intent in the kitchen.  He waved an awkward ‘Hi’ back at her. 
    ‘I’ll leave you to it.  Better get back to that gorgeous husband of mine.  He gets a bit hot when he’s been working in the garden.  And I don’t just mean sweaty!’  She smiled, a lascivious twinkle lighting up her eyes.
    ‘Oh Frannie, don’t ever change,’ Grace laughed, embracing the old lady and seeing her out of the front door.
     

December 2009
     
    Grace lived with Tom in his flat in Worcester for a while, but with the babies on the way, they both wanted to move to one of the villages near the school, so when a tiny black and white cottage Grace had always admired came on the market, they put in an offer and secured it with relatively little hassle.  It was a perfectly clichéd little ‘chocolate box’ home with wisteria around the door and a slightly larger than postage stamp sized garden, which would be more than enough space for the twins to charge about in for the next few years, especially as they had the park opposite and fields directly behind them. 
    ‘Hey, put me down!  I’m too fat for this!  You’ll break your back,’ Grace screeched as Tom gallantly scooped up his hugely pregnant fiancée and carried her over the threshold.  She was amazed his knees had stood up to it.  The pair of them glanced around at their new abode and smiled.  This house they had bought together ticked all the right boxes, and it had the feel of a happy place to