Tara wanted Molly’s party to be one she’d remember for the right reasons, and the catering, at least, was pure Instagram. The table outside was set with Ruth’s mother’s tea service, fine white bone china with forget-me-nots and clovers: she sensed that Molly wanted something grown-up and special, so she’d gone to town with a full Ritz afternoon tea, complete with Granny’s articulated tea strainer and silver cake forks and sugar shaker.

‘Cucumber, salmon, egg and cress, and ham,’ she said, pointing out the finger sandwich selection on the tiered stand. ‘And then scones and cream, petits fours, meringues and macarons. The tea’s in that silver pot, and there’s lemonade in the jug, but if you want something else, just ask.’

‘Wow.’ Molly’s eyes were wide. She kept glancing at Keith, then Toby, then Tara.

‘Do you like it?’ Tara asked.

Impulsively, Molly ran over to Tara and gave her a quick tight hug which squeezed Tara’s heart inside more tightly than Molly’s arms squeezed her waist. The bond between them had developed quickly – too quickly, probably. Tara was well aware that children needed slower steps than these, that children with chaotic home lives made reckless attachments – she had her own issues on that score. But she knew that Molly needed a protector. She’d already seen Keith check his phone, frown and put it back in his pocket twice since he returned.

Leopards don’t change their spots. Had Sarah been left for a babysitter? Tara pushed the thought away.

Something about the silly adult fuss required for the complicated tea made conversation flow like the Earl Grey. Molly wanted to hear every detail of Tara and Toby’s most memorable birthday parties (the funfair one, the fancy dress one) and when the conversation veered too near Ruth, Toby reeled off some outrageous stories of his more recent birthdays that Tara hadn’t shared in person, because they’d taken place abroad, thousands of miles away, with people she didn’t know. He was a natural storyteller, and Molly’s eyes never left his face.

Tara tried to smile in the right places, but inside she wanted to yell, Did you never think of flying somewhere with me?

Keith seemed happy to let Toby take centre stage, sipping his tea and diplomatically avoiding any memories that might spoil the atmosphere. He told them about his own birthday parties as a child, some stories that Tara hadn’t heard before. Everyone was trying hard to make it as much fun for Molly as they could. They coaxed conversation out of her and she gradually bloomed under the attention of her siblings. At four o’clock, the birthday cake was brought out from the pantry – a lemon drip cake with a fondant Labrador on top – and presents were produced.

Keith, much to Tara’s relief, hadn’t forgotten. He’d given Molly a silver necklace with an M on it.