By mid-afternoon, Josie was the proud possessor of a cobalt blue dress studded with silver beads for Rob’s wedding and was excited about jumping into a witch costume and acquiring a green face and a wart on the end of her nose, courtesy of Emelie’s face-painting skills. Then they called for Josie’s friends to go trick or treating. Nico strolled behind with the mummies, listening as they discussed balancing a career and parenthood, as if he didn’t face that challenge. Josie, Stephanie and Martha gabbled and giggled, losing pointy hats and tripping over broomsticks as they trod garden paths at houses with pumpkins outside and knocked on doors, calling, ‘Trick or treeeeee-eat.’ He hoped fervently that renewing her links with Stephanie and Martha would reassure Josie that Jessica’s defection wasn’t the end of her world.

Finally, they said their goodbyes and, after going home to stash Josie’s share of the tooth-rotting sugary crap and pick up her overnight bag, set out for Loren’s soulless modern flat. It was eight-thirty when they climbed the stairs and rapped on the door. Josie, her face paint smeared, had already moved her focus from Halloween. ‘Are we going to a fireworks display soon? And when will the Christmas lights go up in Oxford Street?’ She knocked again, banging the letterbox with both hands.

Nico consulted his phone. ‘Fireworks display on Saturday the seventh.’ He was making a note to find out about the lights when Loren finally answered the door.

Josie gasped, ‘What’s the matter, Mummy?’ and Nico looked up sharply. Loren, framed by the doorway, looked spaced out. Her short hair a dull brown bush, mascara crescents stained the skin below unfocused eyes. Maria could be heard wailing from another room.

‘Oh.’ Loren made an attempt to rearrange her narrow features into a smile. ‘Is it that time? Love your witch costume, sweet pea.’

Nico, suspecting Loren had entirely forgotten Josie was supposed to be sleeping over, rested a reassuring hand on Josie’s shoulder, noting the sudden tension beneath his fingers. ‘She looks fantastic, doesn’t she? Told you Mum would be impressed, Josie.’

Josie drew closer to Nico, her voice high and unhappy. ‘Why’s Maria crying?’

Loren twitched round as if only just hearing the heartbroken sobs. ‘I’ve put her to bed but she keeps getting up. She has to learn to go to bed, doesn’t she?’ She forced a smile. Josie took a couple of tentative steps towards her and lifted her arms.

Then she stopped and wrinkled her nose. ‘You smell funny again.’

All Nico’s red flags flew up. Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped inside the flat and closed the door. It brought him close enough to his ex-wife to catch a strong whiff of stale alcohol. And maybe vomit. What the hell?