‘You have!’ The word ‘babysitter’ jarred with ‘Keith Hunter’ in Tara’s head; the girl standing on the step was probably, in hindsight, about the same age as Ashley, in whose Vauxhall Corsa Keith had exited their lives all those years ago. It suddenly occurred to Tara that she herself wasn’t much younger than her mother had been that night. She pushed away the unsettling thought, and opened the door wide. ‘Come on in, Molly’s just here.’

Molly was inspecting the Sindy doll in her box and put it down guiltily when Tara showed Lily into the kitchen.

‘Hi, Molly!’ said Lily, and Tara was relieved when a happy smile appeared in response on Molly’s face. She lifted her wrist to show Lily a skinny cotton bracelet and Lily clapped her hands: ‘Yay! It survived the shower!’

‘Lily showed me how to make friendship bracelets last time,’ Molly informed Tara. ‘She’s really good at them.’

Lily shrugged modestly and then her phone rang. ‘Oh sorry, it’s my mum, I just need to …’

‘Sure, take it, no rush.’ Tara glanced at Molly, still fiddling proudly with her bracelet. That was me, she thought, as if seeing herself in an old home movie with her own friendship bracelets; she and Toby had matching ones. As clueless and curious and vulnerable as Molly. I knew nothing. And now I’m Mum’s age and I’ve learned more but I still don’t really understand.

‘Is your mum having fun on her film set?’ she asked Molly, to shake off the strange sensation of detaching from her own life. ‘Must be very exciting working with film stars! Is there anyone famous there?’

Molly abruptly turned her attention back to the trapped Sindy doll. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Oh, does she have to sign those non-disclosure forms?’ Tara made a lip-zipping gesture, and Molly nodded.

‘What else has she been up to, then? Does she get any time to visit anywhere? Ireland’s a very fun place …’

Again, no reply. The change in Molly’s mood was odd, and Tara felt rather concerned for her. What was wrong?

She misses her mum, stupid, said a voice in her head. You don’t need to have a Child Psychology diploma to see that. She’s only talked about her family since she walked through the door.

Tara stepped forward and gently removed the box from Molly’s hands. She’d started unpeeling the vintage tape with her sharp nails. ‘Molly? I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing. It’s OK if you’re missing your mummy – you’ll be chatting with her soon, though, won’t you?’

Molly lifted her anxious eyes to Tara. ‘Mummy hasn’t called me yet.’

‘What? Oh no, I’m sure …’ Tara stopped herself. ‘Really? She hasn’t just phoned Dad and he’s talked to her instead? Has she texted?’

She shook her head.