‘Hi, I’m Em,’ said the woman. ‘Emma Hughes, your neighbour. From Briar Cottage, or whatever it’s called over there.’

Maggie blinked, trying to assimilate all of this information as the woman pointed behind her. Emma Hughes had a cheery sort of confidence, standing there in a pink-and-white striped T-shirt and pale-blue cropped trousers, and Maggie guessed that this must be Jack’s mum. Great, she thought, trying not to let her dismay show. ‘Hi,’ she managed to croak in reply, mortified to still be in her cotton shortie pyjamas in front of a stranger.

‘Just thought I should pop round and introduce myself, as I gather our offspring have cooked up a plan between them,’ the woman – Emma – went on to Maggie. She was wearing make-up, and had sparkly blue stud earrings and clinking rose-gold bangles on her wrist. What kind of person went to so much effort at nine o’clock in the morning? On holiday?

Emma twinkled her eyes at Amelia in a knowing sort of way. ‘You’re Amelia, I take it. My son is very keen to go off on a jaunt with you.’

Amelia blushed, but Maggie noticed a small, pleased smile play around on her lips as well. Even though if Maggie had been the one to use a word like ‘jaunt’ in front of someone else’s adolescent, Amelia would be pulling sick faces and hissing at her to stop being weird, rather than smiling in quite such a winning way.

‘Yes,’ said Maggie, seeing as her daughter had been struck uncharacteristically dumb. ‘We were just having a discussion about that.’ You probably heard us screeching like banshees from the other side of the door, in fact.

‘Well, I thought I’d swing by to say hello and that it’s fine by me, as long as you’re in agreement,’ Emma said, turning to Maggie. ‘Izzie, my eldest, is sixteen and she’s going with them too – she’s very sensible,’ she assured her. ‘And, Amelia, you’re welcome to borrow my bike, if you don’t have one of your own here; it’s not too old-ladyish, I promise you. Jack was thinking ten o’clock or so? Give you a bit of time to have breakfast and whatever. He’s not actually showered yet, the stinking pig, but don’t worry, I’ll make sure he’s decent before I release him from the house.’

‘Cool,’ Amelia said, risking a bold side-eye at Maggie, who felt completely backed into a corner by now. ‘I’ll be over at ten.’

‘Wait,’ said Maggie, feeling as if this was all happening too fast. ‘You don’t have a bike helmet, Amelia, so—’

‘It’s fine, we’ve got a spare she can use,’ Em said. Then she peered a little closer at Maggie. ‘Is that okay? I did tell Jack you might have plans or . . .’

Maggie swallowed, thinking about her dad and wanting to put a stop to this whole expedition but too embarrassed to trot out her worries in front of this breezy, smiling stranger. You can’t wrap Amelia in cotton wool!, her mum had warned in the past. Yes, but why not?