Confetti at the Cornish Café. Phillipa Ashley

      ‘Really?’ I take another gulp of wine.

      ‘I’d be on the wine myself if I wasn’t feeding Freya.’

      I laugh. ‘It’s OK. It’s not been as bad as I expected. Oh shit. I didn’t mean I expected it to be bad, only that I didn’t know how I’d react to a full-on family reunion. Arghh. I’ve put my foot in it already.’

      She smiles. ‘Hey, I’ll let you into a secret. A few of your dad’s family and mine aren’t thrilled with me supposedly stepping into your mum’s shoes, moving in with an older man and having a baby with him. Your Auntie Serena’s made no secret of the fact she thinks I’m a bit of a slapper.’

      ‘Auntie Serena has always been a nasty piece of work,’ I say, sliding at a look at the crow-like woman dressed like she’s going to a funeral, sniffing one of my savoury rosemary scones with suspicion. ‘She seems jealous of anyone who’s happy or successful. Mum couldn’t stand her either.’

      ‘We had no choice but to ask her, she was your mum’s great auntie.’

      ‘It’s fine. It’s your – Freya’s – day and I’ll keep out of Serena’s way.’ I don’t want to have a “mishap” with a smoothie or a glass of wine, I think, as I have had with Mawgan Cade in the past.

      ‘Come and have your photo taken with Kyle and Freya now we’re in the warm. It would be lovely to have a picture of the three of you together.’

      Grateful for Rachel’s efforts to make me feel comfortable, I join Kyle, Rachel and Dad for a family photo, even though I feel a bit like a cuckoo in the nest. It’s definitely a situation I could never have imagined six months ago.

      As I see people admiring the place and praising the buffet, I can’t help a warm glow of pride myself. I’m glad I suggested holding the christening tea at Demelza’s. After we’ve posed for some photos by the cake that Rachel’s cousin made, the sound of corks popping from the servery startles Freya. She throws her tiny arms out and opens her huge blue eyes for a few seconds. Her lips part and everyone holds their breath waiting for her to let out a wail but then she settles back into a snuffly sleep. Rachel puts her in her Moses basket while Cal hands round glasses of Prosecco and Robyn distributes the cake.

      ‘I hope no one minds me doing this but I’d like to propose a toast,’ Cal says, holding his glass up. ‘To Freya Penelope. Wishing her a long and very happy life!’

      Everyone raises their glasses and echoes his words, even Auntie Serena manages to lift her glass of orange juice a few inches.

      ‘And I’d like to congratulate her parents, Gary and Rachel, on producing such a beautiful daughter, and Demi and Kyle on their new sister. Wishing you every happiness,’ Cal adds.

      People raise their glasses again. My dad steps forward, shuffling nervously. He clears his throat and the room hushes in anticipation. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dad give a speech and my palms feel damp with nerves at what he might say.

      ‘Thanks for the kind words, Cal. And thank you all for coming to welcome Freya into the world. She knows how to time her entrance: on the day after Boxing Day during the great storm that caused so much heartache and flooded our cottage.

      ‘Now I’m sure there are many on St Trenyan who wouldn’t agree with this but every cloud does have a silver lining. If it hadn’t been for that flood, we wouldn’t be standing here now, enjoying this fantastic spread and the hospitality of Demi and Cal.’

      Under my cardigan, my arms break out in goosebumps. Dad’s going to say something … about me – I know he is and I don’t know if I can handle it.