Maggie sipped her tea and tried to swallow back the dark swirl of feelings inside her. Of course she was glad that Amelia was having such a good time, she told herself, although this reaction was battling quite strongly with a response that felt a lot like insecurity. She doubted Amelia usually posted anything quite so positive about days out with Maggie, for instance. In fact, now that Maggie checked, there had been a stony silence about their entire trip to Pendennis, although the day before that . . . wait. What? Why was there a picture of Amelia holding a tequila bottle down by Falmouth docks?

Startled, she flicked through the other photos from that day. The tequila bottle seemed to feature prominently, she thought, eyes wide. In fact . . . hold on. She zoomed in to take a closer look. If she wasn’t mistaken, that was the exact same tequila bottle that Maggie had won at the tombola stall at the school summer fair in June. The tequila bottle that Linda Barber from the PTA had handed over to her with a wink, saying, ‘Someone’s in for a good night tonight!’ Maggie had smiled politely and then, once home, had added the bottle to her meagre drinks collection, imagining it would be there for several years untouched, until she remembered to give it away for another school summer fair.

It was the same bottle, she was sure of it. And then Em’s cryptic comments about that day came back to her in the next moment – what was it she’d said? Those naughty teens, or something. Was this what she’d been referring to? Oh my goodness. And there Maggie had been, assuming that the other two had been a bad influence on her angelic daughter. Had it actually been the other way round? She wouldn’t have believed it herself, had the evidence not been right there, in front of her, captured for posterity on her daughter’s camera roll.

Okay then. So that showed what she knew about her own flesh and blood: a lot less than she’d assumed. Did that make her a bad parent or Amelia a bad daughter? She picked up the pebble and stared at it. Help me, she thought. Any ideas how I’m meant to tackle this one?

After numerous attempts and several changes of mind, Olivia had finally finished her letter to Lorna and Roy, and now she was in Falmouth saying her goodbyes.