“Millie! Nina!” she yelled as she walked past the bottom of the stairs. “For goodness’ sakes, get your acts together! You’re ten minutes late for school already.”

Millie appeared at the kitchen door with a half-eaten piece of toast in her hand. “We’re just having our breakfast.”

“Well, eat it on the way to school,” Jackie snapped as she pushed past her into the kitchen. Her eyes fixed on Nina who was hunched over a bowl of cereal, her eyes glued to the television. “Nina! What the hell are you doing?” She picked up the remote from the table and zapped the television. “Would you two stop moving like dead turtles and get out of this house?”

Millie pulled a face at her sister. “Chill out, Mum,” she murmured.

Jackie turned and glared at her. “What do you mean, ‘chill out’? I was meant to be in the office at eight o’clock this morning, and I’m still here at ten past nine because I’ve had to walk the damned dogs and try to get you two off to school.”

“Wasn’t our fault,” Nina grumbled. “You didn’t wake us up in time.”

“That is not true, Nina. I woke you both at seven-thirty. If you’d have got up then, you could have taken the dogs for a walk and we wouldn’t be running round in circles now.”

“Dad always wakes us twice,” Millie said.

“Yes,” Nina agreed. “First with a knock and then, half an hour later, with a text.”

Jackie unplugged her mobile phone from the charger and put it in her handbag. “I really do not feel like speaking about your father right now. I don’t know where the hell he is, but he should be here. He knows that this is probably my busiest time of the year.” She picked up her coat from the back of a chair and put it over her arm. She took in a deep, settling breath. “Right. I’m off. Make sure you double-lock the door, okay?”

She looked curiously at Nina who had turned slowly in her chair, her nose wrinkled and a sneer of disgust on her face.

“What’s that smell?” Nina said, getting to her feet and walking around the work island. “Eeeugh! Biggles has done a poo.”

“You cannot be seri . . .” Jackie came over and witnessed the mess on the floor. “Oh, you bloody dogs,” she whimpered. “What’s the point in my taking you for a walk? That’s what you’re supposed to do then!” She skirted gingerly around the affected area and threw open the French door. “Get out! Get out, you revolting animals!” she screamed at the dogs. Biggles, who had pressed himself into the farthest corner of the room, moved like lightning out into the garden as if expecting a boot to help him on his way, while Cruise trotted nonchalantly after him.