The park was a good idea. Large and busy and with easy means of escape if I needed to run. Which is ridiculous. As if I could run away from Jake's three-year-old son.

Jake had suggested it because he said it might be easier to introduce us if we were in neutral territory, and on neutral ground. It was a lovely day for it too. So we had agreed to meet by the pond, near the gazebo. He was coming straight here after picking him up from his mothers and I would arrive a bit later with the picnic. And it was a proper picnic. An assortment of wrapped food inside an actual wicker basket, with a blanket on top. I'd packed fruit and sandwiches and some kid's drinks and yoghurts that Caleb will probably be allergic to. Why didn't I as Jake what he was allergic to? I'll need to know that going forward. I'm certain Jake would have told me if there was anything that might harm him, and since I hadn't brought any brussel sprouts hopefully it would all work out okay.

The park is busy, mainly because it's sunny and warm, but also because it's Saturday afternoon and most Londoners went to parks on Saturday afternoons. I parked the car a few streets over, not too far away but the weight of the basket and the heat from the sun beats down on me, adding to my ever increasing heart rate. On the upside though it warms my skin and relaxes some of the tension in my anxious bones.

London smells nice in summer. In a different way to how France smells, but nice still. Especially in parks and at home in Shere where the lack of traffic means the scent of flowers and trees permeates the air deliciously. He suggested I take the east entrance into the park, closer to where the gazebo is and walk for five minutes around the edge and then follow the signs for the pond. I'd been to Hyde park lots of times but it's huge and sprawling and I always lose my bearings under the trees. Since Jake clearly knows it well, I follow his directions to the letter and after a short walk, I reach the duck pond.

The pond itself is heaving with ducks and swans and those little pedal boats people like to peddle around in circles pointlessly. I stop and look around the circumference of the large oval pond, halting my gaze over any adult and their accompanying child. He would be on this side I imagine, near to where the trees open up and the eastern path leads up to it. It takes me a few moments to spot them, but when I do I stop short on the spot, immobile as I take in the sight. Jake, dressed in a navy T-shirt, light blue shorts and blue trainers with clear rimmed wayfarers hiding his eyes, attempts to tackle a ball from Caleb, who tries some fancy foot trick to turn the ball away from Jake and succeeds. Caleb is dressed very similarly but in a white T-shirt and a baseball cap both with the colourful superman logo emblazoned across both.

I'm smiling hard as I watch the scene play out a small distance away. Despite Caleb's fancy footwork, Jake towers over his little form and could easily steal the ball with a quick flick of his feet. However, Jake pretends to be unable to tackle the football from Caleb for a few moments more, before turning one way and then the next and dropping to the ground. As he pretends to be hurt from Caleb's tackle, holding his knee and pressing his head into the grass, Caleb jumps on him, hitting his tiny fist playfully off his back.

Jake plays injured for a few moments more before he lifts his head and roars at him, sticking his fists up in a fake boxing stance, which causes Caleb to erupt into a fit of giggles. Watching them together makes me feel all sorts of things. Love and pride, admiration and wonderment.  It makes me think about the child I have growing inside me and it confirms exactly what kind of father he'll make.

He has a broken relationship with Caleb's mother but it hasn't lessened his need to love and cherish his child. When I do finally tell him about it then I know he won't be scared and afraid because he already knows how to be a good father. In fact I'll need him to show me how to be a good mother.

Grazing my hand over the small still, unnoticeable bump hidden under my yellow summer dress I move toward them. Jake was going to notice it soon. He stared at me too hard when I was naked, and he spent a lot of time between my legs - he'd notice soon enough. Rob was right about everything she'd said. What was I waiting for? Likely his response was only going to be negative if he found out I'd waited so long to tell him about it. Jake was a literal, direct person in most things. He wouldn't understand my holding this back. And actually, the more I thought about it, the less I understood it myself. What exactly am I waiting for? Do I really expect he was going to announce any day now that his life was now untangled and burden free? After I see the doctor I can decide how to tell him. That seems as sensible an approach as any other.

As I get closer I brush a hand through my hair, nerves and tension still rumbling through me, vibrating under my skin. I'd narrowed the root of my nerves down to two things. First, I'm nervous in case Jake sees something in how I interact with Caleb that he doesn't like and that makes him look at me differently. Second, I'm scared Caleb dislikes me so intensely that it somehow slowly starts to niggle away at Jake's own feelings for me. I'm not sure if any of these fears are normal, or if It's just ridiculous levels of paranoia and overanalysis - which would be just like me.

Jake spots me first, his boxing stance dispersing as he smiles brightly and stands up from the grass, brushing a hand down over his knees, his eyes not leaving mine. As Caleb turns to see what just stole his dad's attention I get my first full look at Jake's son - it makes my heart pinch slightly. He's beautiful. Blonde haired, with large curious blue eyes and a full mouth like his father. He pulls his little shoulders back and gives me the once over as he moves a step closer to his dad. Jake slides an arm around his shoulders before ruffling a hand playfully over his hair.

When I'm a few feet away from them I lift my hand up into a small half wave "Hi," I smile at Jake first and then drop my eyes to Caleb.

"Hey, you made it," Jake replies softly. I want to kiss him but because Caleb is looking up at me with wide eyes that are clearly unsure of my presence I decide against it. I'll let Jake make the first move in that regard. "Buddy this is who I was telling you about," he looks down at Caleb. "This is Alex."

Caleb drags his eyes from Jake to me and I smile at him a little wider.

"Hi, Caleb. It's nice to meet you."

He says nothing in response and he doesn't return my smile, he just stares at me hard, wariness etched across his eyes. From here his eyes look a bright brilliant blue, with no sea green in them like his fathers have. But he definitely has Jake's mouth and his frown, and the nose slopes at the same straight angle.

"Alex is a boys name," Caleb announces finally, a slight pout on his mouth now.

I widen my eyes and smile as Jake ruffles his hair again in warning this time. "Mate, that's not nice," Jake says, giving me an apologetic look.

I smile and drop my eyes back to Caleb. "A boy's name? It is?" I say as I rest the basket on the grass by my feet.

He nods. "There's a boy at my nursery called Alex." He informs me.

"Oh, I see. And is he your friend? This Alex?" I ask.

"No," he says firmly. "He bit me."

"What? Where? When?" I look at Jake in horror and he nods, eyes a shade darker suddenly.

"A few weeks back, I've honestly no clue what these places do half the time. The last one was just as bad. This is supposed to be one of the best in London, and it still sh-ambolic. No flipping clue what I'm paying them for?" He growls. I nod gravely and look back to Caleb, giving him a quick visual once over. Thankfully, his slightly golden skin seems unmarred by any bite marks that I can see.

"Well, I suppose you're right. Some boys are called Alex, but there are lots of names that both boys and girls can have," I explain.

Caleb looks doubtful. Like this might be the biggest lot of rubbish he has ever heard in his whole three years on earth. "Like what?" he asks.

"Well, Alex obviously and there's Frankie, and Charlie, Geri and Jamie..." I look up at Jake for help and he seems to be thinking hard, but then he shrugs and shakes his head at me.

"Can boys have girls names too?" Caleb asks.

Impressed by his train of thought I nod. "Sure why not. Boys and girls are actually almost the same anyway." .

"How?" he frowns, confused.

I think about how on earth to explain this to a three-year-old. "Um, well, imagine that boys and girls are made up of lots and lots of jigsaw pieces? Well, the jigsaw pieces that go together to make the boy, and the jigsaw pieces that go together to make the girl are exactly the same. So that when you put all the pieces together you don't know whether its a boy or a girl because both jigsaws look exactly the same," I glance up at Jake to find him smiling an amused lopsided smile at me. "It's only when you choose the last piece to go in that makes a boy a boy and a girl a girl. So, since they're almost exactly the same it makes sense that boys can have girls names and girls can have boys names. " I shrug.

Caleb looks at me suspiciously for a few long moments before turning to Jake, who widens his eyes. When Caleb looks back to me he still looks confused. I've completely lost him. Of course I have because you don't explain biology and chromosome definition to a toddler.

"Who chooses the last piece?" Caleb asks finally, little brow furrowed in concentration now.

As I think about this, my mind thoughtfully decides to use his mother as a case study, and a very uncomfortable image constructs itself in my brain for the next few moments. Jake groans and thrusts into Vicky making the kinds of noises he makes when he makes love to me. A drunken mistake happened. Christ, I despise my imagination.

"Well that's the interesting bit, the dad get's to pick the last piece. So..." I look up at Jake who's still smiling at me, but since the image in my head from a few moments ago is still burning bright I have to look away back to Caleb. "So your dad picked you. Your dad could have chosen a little girl or a little boy and he chose you."

"You picked me?" he turns to gaze up at Jake.

Jake doesn't miss a beat, he wraps a hand around the back of his sons neck and squeezes softly. "Course I did mate, look at you. You're my little lion man." He says.

Something inside me melts. Melting away the cold dark thoughts and images of him and Vicky. Caleb beams before turning promptly back to me.

"Whats that?" he asks, pointing at the picnic basket.

"Lots of things," I open the top and pull out the blanket first and hand it to Jake. "Food and drinks and I brought some food to feed the ducks."

"Daddy said weren't allowed to feed the ducks!" Caleb exclaims. "Dad said the ducks could die if we feeded them," his eyes are wide and filled with fear. Not wanting to contradict his father, I look up at Jake in question and bite my lip, not sure what to say next. Jake kneels down and puts a hand on Caleb's shoulder.

"Yeah mate, I know. But Alex is a doctor and so she knows what these ducks can eat and what they can't. If she says it's okay then it's okay." He nods, throwing me a look that tells me he just winged that rather convincing explanation. Biting back a smile at him, I look at Caleb, and give his wide-eyed stare a small nod that matches his fathers.

"This is special duck food," I tell him. Which is true; it's the off cuttings from some lettuces I picked from the garden, some frozen peas which had been in the freezer for way too long to be edible, and some cut up grapes which were bruised and had fallen from the bunch I'd packed into the picnic. Not a brussel sprout in sight either. "This won't hurt them, I promise. Will you help me give it to them?"

He nods eagerly, looking excited now, and reaches out to take one of the small bags from me. He immediately turns towards the pond where a family of ducks are floating aimlessly just out from the edge and starts toward it, then he stops and looks back at me, waiting. I stand, wipe off my knees and lift the remaining feedbag of broken bits from the basket. Taking a few steps toward him I reach my hand out for him to take. Brave Alex. If he doesn't take it then what? Casually pretend I was looking at my nails?

Thankfully my pride remains intact when Caleb shoves his small hand into mine and practically drags me off in the direction of the pond. When I look back over my shoulder, Jake is standing with his hands in his pockets and a faint 'I told you so' smile on his face. Despite my own delight and relief that Caleb doesn't seem to be allergic to me, Jake clearly isnt shocked or surprised at how things seem to be going.

When we reach the pond, he crouches down on his haunches by the edge and the bottom almost drops out of my stomach. I move closer to him, standing behind him to hold onto his shoulders as he tries to entice the ducks to come and say hello to him with the promise of a handful of green cuttings as reward. It works, and they soon float over to him and busy themselves with his offerings and he chats away to them like you might do a dog or a cat or any other house pet.

Caleb is chatty and adoarbly funny, and it seems like once you earn his trust he treats you much like he's known you for years. One trait he certainly doesn't get from his father. At my request he tells me about his nursery with enthusiasm - despite the biting incident - and about his best friend Louis. He has two best friends apparently, one of which is Jake - because dads are allowed to be best friends too he informs me.

"Do you have any pets at home? Dogs or Cats or ducks?" I ask him, still gripping tightly onto his shoulders. He shakes his head without taking his eyes off his task.

"Mummy doesn't like them." He says, moving to stand and turn the plastic food bag inside out to shake the last of its contents onto the murky surface. It causes a little flurry of activity amongst the winged collective atop the water. "It's all gone," he informs the ducks before standing up and turning to me.

I take his empty bag and give him my own bag, which is still almost full, and suggest to him to stand further back from the waters edge and throw it further in. There are a group of smaller ducks who haven't been brave enough to come near us yet.

He does as I instruct with loud noises of exertion, and soon the second bag of food is gone too and he's apologising to the ducks while adorably holding both hands out to show them the sad state of affairs. When they realise he's telling the truth the gradually start to lose interest and begin swimming back to the safety of the group, discarding the generous little boy by my side.

When we finally turn to make our way back up the small incline, we find Jake lounging back on the grey blanket I'd packed into the basket, the bright red football resting between his legs as he scrolls through his phone. He's munching hungrily on a bright red apple, also from the basket. Caleb immediately starts running towards him, practically throwing himself on top of his father with a loud squeal. Jake groans in an exaggerated fashion, pretends to look and sound winded before moving wrapping his arms around his son instead.

"That fun?" he asks him, turning his head to me. He has his sunglasses back on so I cant see his eyes but as he smiles at me softly, letting out a soft contented sigh.

"Ducks are greedy! They ate everythinnnnng. They are soooooooooo greeeeedyyyy!"

"Greedier than you?" Jake asks him.

"Not as greedy as you," he retorts.

"Hey, you calling me fat?" Jake asks, puffing out his cheeks and pushing out his stomach, resting the apple on his chest. Caleb giggles and starts poking at Jake's stomach "Here mate, you should see what Alex brought for us to eat - look," he sits up and directs Caleb to the basket as I take a seat next to them on the blanket.

"I didn't know what you would like so I got a selection," I explain. I'd packed it this morning after Jake left and stuck it in Rob's fridge so it didn't turn in the heat of the car. The sandwiches were with cheese because everyone liked cheese, even children. I'd brought yoghurts too, and lots of fruit. Apples, and grapes, and melon and mango - the latter of which I'd cut up into little squares.

Caleb inspects the contents curiously before Jake moves him out of the way and pulls out the bottle of Ed's homemade cloudy lemonade and the plastic picnic plates and cups and sets them all in the middle of the blanket. Then he pulls out the box containing the sandwiches and pops it open and holds it out for me first, then Caleb before taking one himself. There is a small tub of olives in there too which were mainly for me, and perhaps Jake because I still hadn't gotten to the bottom of his olive persuasion. For the grownups I'd packed some hams and an assorted antipasti selection that I don't, for a second think Caleb will look at.

We eat and drink in relative silence, and Jake steals numerous glances at me before reaching across to stroke my thigh or my hand when Caleb is distracted with his food. I notice that he looks away from Caleb for only short periods at a time, his eyes always travelling dutifully back to his son. It's automatic. A deeply embedded protectiveness that captivates me completely. When he isn't looking at Caleb or me, he looks around us, seemingly assessing anyone who gets too close to us with a look of alert suspicion.

Like Jake, Caleb is a neat eater too. He takes small, almost delicate bites of his sandwich and chews fully before swallowing, which he alternates with sips from his juice carton. When his dad offers him a grape he nods and opens his mouth and lets him put it inside before chewing away contentedly. "Good?" Jake asks him. Caleb nods, waiting until he's completely swallowed it before speaking.

"Yeah," he says.

"Say thanks to Alex for feeding us then," Jake says softly.

"Thanks, Alex," he says shyly to me.

"You're welcome." I smile, reaching across to open the small tub of Spanish olives stuffed with pimento.

"Now you," Caleb says to his father. "You have to say thanks too."

I laugh softly, before popping the olive into my mouth. Then I level an expectant stare on Jake.

"Thanks Alex," Jake says, smiling.

"You're very welcome," I smile, holding out the olive tub to him. I hold my breath as he inspects the contents rather absently before selecting one nestled in against the side, his mouth turned up slightly in faint curiosity.

And then finally, after months of wondering, I get my answer to the olive question. It's a crushing blow.

First, Jake's mouth twists up in utter distaste and then he groans loudly, leaning over the edge of the blanket to spit the half chewed olive back out. The reaction causes Caleb to burst into a fit of loud giggles, and he rolls dramatically onto his side as he points and continues to laugh at his dad. So Jake isn't an olive lover. So he hates olives.

Well, I suppose it would be difficult for him to be any more perfect than he was already. He shoots me an almost accusingly look and wipes the taste from his mouth, lifting his blue cup of lemonade, which he proceeds to gargle. Caleb continues to laugh at him, and since it's a cute contagious laugh I join in a second later.

"Jesus baby why didn't you tell me it was an olive? I hate them." He groans again.

"What on earth did you think it was?" I smile.

"I don't know, but please label those things in bold red letters so I never do that again yeah?"

"I can't believe you don't like them," I sigh with disapointment before popping another succulent olive into my mouth. Jake shakes his head in disgust and turns round to Caleb. He isn't laughing anymore but he's breathless and his cheeks are pink and his eyes glittering with excitement.

"What are you laughing at?? Maybe you should try one? They taste lovely, promise," he says moving across the blanket towards him. "Alex hand me those olives over will you yeah?"

"Noooooooo!" Caleb howls, giggling again. "I don't want to try one!! I'm sorry for laughing at you daddy, I'm sorry! Don't!!"

After the hilarity has died down and the picnic depleted, Jake stands and offers to go buy us all an ice cream from the vendor by the gate. Caleb asks for "a surprise," which I assume is in the literal sense and not the name of his favourite product. When he turns to me I also ask for a surprise, smiling as seductively as possible as I do.

"Think I'll go for something strawberry," he muses, biting his lip. It causes a delicious shiver to move over my whole body. "You'll be okay here?" he asks, nodding toward Caleb.

I smile. "Of course,"

He nods and bends down to lift his phone and slips into his back pocket, then he leans across and kisses me softly on the cheek. "I love you," he whispers softly, grazing his tongue over the skin of my cheek. "Back in five," he says and disappears.

Caleb is distracted, playing with an iPad which has a lime green rubber cover on it. As I glance over to look at the screen I see a bouncing object which he appears to move along with his finger. The object jumps and bursts into a ball of green exploding light and he says "yessssss!"

Closing my eyes, I lean back on my elbows and enjoy the soft breeze coming off the trees to our right. The sun has faded behind Kensington Palace but the air is still warm and close as the soft wind dances featherlike and gentle across my neck, knees and toes.

What a lovely day it's been. This couldn't have gone better really. What a magnificent treat to witness Jake with his son. I feel like I've been allowed into the inner circle of something special. They have private jokes and a secret language sometimes which is so beautiful to witness and which doesn't at all make me feel excluded, rather the opposite. He's amazing with him. Natural and loving and seeing him in this context makes me feel excited and hopeful about how he'll feel when I tell him about the baby. It's only been a few days since I did the test.  When I see Laura and have everything confirmed properly  then I'll tell him. He'll understand why I waited these few days. He'll understand that I kept it to myself for the right reasons. I know he—.

"Are you and my daddy going to get married?" The small voice bubbles up from my left. I open my eyes and look down to find his iPad discarded by his side and him watching me intently, legs crossed in a yoga type pose, hands clasped between them. How long was he watching me for?  It's slightly unsettling having him stare at me so hard actually. Thankfully, there's no antagonism in his eyes, just genuine curiosity.

I sit up and brush a hand through my hair as I decide how to answer that.  How would Jake want me to answer that?  I look behind me then to check Jake isn't standing there or on his way back to us.  Though something tells me that if he were, Caleb wouldn't have dared asked the question.

"I'm not sure." I say softly.  He looks unconvinced and unsatisfied by my answer.  His eyes - so much like Jakes right now - burn hard into me.  "I mean maybe one day.  If you're asking if I'd like to marry your daddy then that is a different question." I suggest. Can I confuse him with longer, complex sentences? Stall him until Jake returns?

"Daddy told me that he loves you." He says. 

In response, my heart does a sort of stumble, tripping over before it gets up and carries on hammering in my chest. Jake told him he loved me?  Oh my god I want to cry.

"Well, I love him too. But you know just because he loves me, it doesn't mean he loves you any less. People can love more than one person at a time."

"I know. My daddy loves me the most of anyone." He says with confidence.

I smile, nodding in agreement. "Oh yes, he does. He told me that himself."

"If you marry my dad does that mean you are my new mum?"

My mouth drops open.  "No. God no, Caleb. Your mum will always be your mum. That doesn't change. I mean, I wish I had a little boy like you and I would be very happy to be your mum, but your mum and dad put all the jigsaw pieces together to make you so that means they'll always be your mum and dad." The jigsaw piece analogy feels grossly superficial now somehow. 

He thinks about this for a long time, neither happy or sad by my confirmation that I won't be his new mum. "And what if my mum died? Would you be my new mum then?"

"Why... would... your mum die?" My heart hammers harder now.  What depth he has.  What sort of little boy knows about death and dying at such a young age?

He shrugs and drops his eyes from mine.

"Well she's very young your mum and she isn't sick, so I don't think she is going anywhere for a long time.  And I'm a doctor so I know these things." I smile, hoping it's reassuring for him.

He nods and brings his finger up and starts nibbling on it the way Jake sometimes does when he's stressed. I need to change the subject. If this conversation is stressing him I need to change it. "Your dad told me that you love lions? That they're your favourite animal?"

He nods slowly and lifts his head up. The finger stays in his mouth until he starts to speak. "I saw them at the zoo but they were sleeping."

"Cats sleep a lot," I confirm. "My cat sleeps all day. He snores too."

He smiles a little then. "You have a cat and he snores?"

"I do. Fred. He's a lot smaller than a lion, lions are the biggest cats in the world; Fred is very small and very furry. But yep, he sleeps all day and snores very loudly."

"I don't think lions snore," he says, thinking hard.

"Oh some definitely do. But you would have to be very very close to hear them. And you can't go very close to them because they might eat you," I widen my eyes playfully.

"Simba wouldn't eat me. He's the good lion," he tells me. "But Scar would. Scar would eat everyone."

"He's the bad lion?"

He nods enthusiastically. "He was Simba's uncle but he killed umfasa and then Simba ran away." He explains.

"And who was Umfasa?" I ask, curious now.

"Simbas dad,"

I make an 'O' shape with my mouth just as Caleb's eyes go wide at the sight over my shoulder. I turn round to see Jake coming back to us, hands full of ice cold surprises.   The relief at seeing him is immense and Caleb brightens immediately too, jumping up from the blanket to run for his dad who hands him a multi-coloured ice lolly in the shape of a rocket. 

As Jake bends down to hand me my waffle cone, dripping in what looks to be caramel sauce, not even the sight his full glorious smile can chase away the bizarre and unexpected sense of foreboding that has just settled over me.