Aaaargh, though. Seriously: aarrrrggghhhhh! So much for her perfect holiday. So much for her and George’s families mingling in joyous harmony. Her dreamily scripted happy-ever-after had become a horror story, with one disaster after another, and now there had come one final terminal crash into the buffers as he’d packed up and gone. Gone for good? Who knew, although she wouldn’t blame him if, after this week, he had decided to run for the hills, or at least to the nearest monastery.

‘Why didn’t you tell me any of this earlier?’ she had all but howled to Izzie after George, Seren and Charlotte had left and the house had taken on the sombre feel of a recent bereavement. ‘You could have told me stuff was going on with your friends – you can always talk to me about how you feel, however embarrassing it might be.’

Izzie had given her a Get real sort of look, though. ‘Yeah, but when? When was I supposed to talk to you? I can never get you alone,’ she’d pointed out. ‘Apart from now, obviously – but I’m guessing it’s a bit late for talking now.’

She’d guessed right. It was a bit late for everything now, unfortunately. Certainly too late for Em to have paid more attention to her own kid when she’d needed it. So that was another point to chalk up for bad parenting.

Staring glumly down at the ground, she noticed that Seren had left her little Sylvanian Families fox behind. It must have been blown off the sun lounger in a gust of wind at some point, because it was now lying face-down in the grass. You and me both, mate, she thought, reaching over to pick it up and wiping the dirt from its velvety nose.

Dinner had been cooked on autopilot: some white fish with lemony new potatoes and salad for dinner, but nobody seemed very hungry. ‘So George and Seren have just . . . gone?’ asked Jack in surprise, seeing the table only set for three. He had never been the most observant child when it came to joining dots; he sailed through life oblivious of his surroundings half the time. ‘How come?’

Em gave him a weak imitation of a smile (‘Your divorce smile,’ Izzie had once called it, and the naming was apt). ‘They just decided to go back early,’ she said. ‘Seren was always going to leave with her mum at the end of the week, remember, but . . . yeah. He went earlier too.’ She had run out of steam and knew she must sound unconvincing, but Jack nodded, accepting it as fact.

‘Oh, right,’ was all he said. ‘Hey, Amelia’s back soon at least,’ he added in the next moment, completely unrelatedly. As if that made up for anything. He slopped mayonnaise onto his potatoes in a shuddering dollop. ‘You know, the girl from next door?’