So that was the first setback of the day and then, minutes later, Izzie announced she wasn’t coming out with them and wanted to stay at home, which had Em wheedling and cajoling, to no effect. ‘I’m sixteen and I’m an introvert,’ Izzie said, not budging an inch. ‘And I’ll be fine on my own. Don’t worry, I won’t drown or anything. Or let any burglars in while you’re out.’

Sometimes you just couldn’t force a person to have fun. Never mind. The remaining four of them could still have a good day out. George had suggested a boat trip out to Truro, stopping on the way at Trelissick, a beautiful old country house with gardens and woodland to explore. Lovely! That would do. ‘We might not have mobile reception the whole time because we’ll be out on the river,’ Em told Izzie before they left, ‘but if you have any problems, just go and knock at the big farmhouse up there. Remember Lorna, the lady who gave us the keys? She may be able to help if you need her.’

A picnic packed, sun cream applied, and with George’s phone stuffed in a bag of rice to dry out, they finally set off in George’s car. It was weird – and not completely to Em’s liking – the way they had settled into holiday roles this week, she thought, opening the map on her phone so that she could give him directions. Before now, they had been just Em and George in their relationship: two adults who liked each other’s company and found each other attractive. Simple. But ever since they’d been in Cornwall, they had become more like Mum and Dad, whose main preoccupations were their various children. Em seemed to be doing all the cooking and organizing, just like she’d done in her marriage to Dom. George seemed to be doing all the driving and the larking about with kids – again, just like Dom had done when they’d been together.

Em wasn’t sure she relished being slotted back into that old pigeonhole. She’d preferred it when they had their own separate spaces and lives. It wasn’t that she didn’t like George any less than before, it was more that she didn’t want to be Mum-Em when she was with him. How did anyone get the balance right? Was it even possible? She . . .

‘What am I doing here?’ George asked just then as they approached a T-junction and Em snapped out of her thoughts, prodding hurriedly at her screen, which had gone unhelpfully blank.

‘Um . . . left, I think,’ she guessed. ‘No – right. Sorry! Right!’