This did, admittedly, have the ring of truth about it and Em felt her face suffuse with heat. Izzie had been peevishly reluctant about looking after Seren, but all the same, she wasn’t the sort of girl who pushed little children around. Was she? ‘Did you say those things?’ Em demanded of Izzie, while draping the towel around the younger girl’s shoulders.

Izzie’s face reddened. ‘Well – yeah, but I didn’t push her. She’s lying!’

‘Hey,’ George gave her a stern look. ‘That’s a very serious thing to say, young lady.’

‘I’d say it was pretty serious for someone to make a false accusation too,’ Izzie retorted, glaring.

George’s face stiffened as he bent over his daughter. ‘All right, Noodle,’ he soothed, wrapping the towel more tightly around her. ‘You’re all right. Did you bump anywhere? Tell me what hurts.’

‘I bumped my head,’ Seren said plaintively. ‘And my leg hurts a lot. There’s blood!’ She broke into fresh sobs. ‘Daddy Fox got wet too,’ she sobbed.

‘He’s probably drowned,’ Izzie muttered meanly.

‘Iz—’ warned Em, frowning.

‘I want Mummy!’ howled Seren.

Em and Izzie looked at each other. ‘I didn’t push her,’ Izzie said again, folding her arms across her chest. ‘You do believe me, don’t you, Mum?’

Em hesitated, feeling George’s eyes on her too. Did she believe Izzie? The two girls had already had one spat that morning, after all. ‘I didn’t see what happened,’ she said after a moment. This is what it must be like being a politician, she thought, her mind scrabbling for the right words. The most delicate of balancing acts required, to keep everyone sweet. ‘If there was a push, then I’m sure it was an accident and nothing deliberate, so—’

‘There wasn’t a push at all. She’s making it up!’ Izzie said.

‘That’s enough,’ said George in a voice Em didn’t recognize, as he scooped Seren into his arms and began carrying her towards their towels and bags. ‘Come on, poppet,’ they heard him say as he walked away. ‘We can dry Daddy Fox back at the house, don’t worry.’

Em opened her mouth, then shut it again, feeling miserable. And just like that, a wall had sprung up between her and George. This was the problem with mixing up different families, she thought to herself, sliding a hand into Izzie’s in a show of solidarity as the two of them set off in silent pursuit. When it came to contradicting accounts, like now, there was always going to be a taking of sides; you would be in your own child’s corner every single time. As had just been demonstrated. At least when she and Dom had been together, there’d been no automatic tribalism; they could judge each situation fairly without the tug of loyalties clouding their vision.