‘And Daddy has other schools lined up to try next week!’ Mairi told Kes. ‘Much better schools, with special things like swimming pools and pets!’

His wet eyes glimmered.

In the shadows, Ellis scuffed away, trailing his ’Splorer Stick.

Pax could hear the Wassailing procession making its way along the lane beside the Green at last, braziers crackling.

She crouched in front of Kes, heart thumping, voice at its most reassuring, ‘What do you want to do, Kes?’

‘I want to go, Mummy!’ His voice caught with sobs, tears starting to stream, overwhelmed by it all.

She hugged him tightly.

‘Enough,’ she sighed hoarsely, kissing his woolly-hatted head and wet cheeks. ‘Of course you can go back with the Grandforces, Kes. Good plan! Mummy will see you tomorrow after school and can’t wait to hear all about it.’ Releasing him, she ignored teeth-sucking intakes of breath beside her from Bridge and Carly and cupped his face. ‘I will miss you more than the sun.’

‘I will miss you more than the galaxy.’

‘More than infinity.’

‘More than infinity and – beyond!’

They hugged again, squeezing hard. They were safe with routines, already growing accustomed to painful goodbyes. Pax’s heart thumped against his through the winter layers, her painful eye streaming while the other held determinedly on to its tears.

‘Come along, Kes,’ Mairi said briskly. ‘Let’s leave Mummy with her… friends.’

Still Kes clung to Pax. ‘Come home, Mummy,’ he said in a small voice. ‘Please let’s go home.’

Throat tightening so much she could hardly speak, heart ablaze, Pax had never felt so torn and alone. This is home now. ‘I can’t, my darling.’

‘Because you don’t love Daddy any more?’

‘We both love you so, so much. Now you enjoy that new toy, wake up with a smile, look out for Ellis at school tomorrow, and remember I’m with you every step of the way.’ Her voice was catching, razor blades flailing in her throat. ‘Every step.’

‘Okay. See you tomorrow, Mummy!’ He turned to gambol away, quicker to recover, a happy survivalist. His normal; her living hell.

‘Don’t wave him off, Tishy.’ Muir stepped in front of her. ‘It’ll only upset the poor bairn. You enjoy your wee celebration.’ He turned and set off, raising his arm in farewell.

‘And you can go to hell,’ she breathed to herself.

‘I heard that!’

It would be logged in the Big Book of Bad Mummy.

Pax pressed a heel of her hand to her sore eye again, glancing at the others with her good one, unable to speak, the blood roaring through her head so loudly she thought it might burst from her ears. She wanted to be somewhere else fast. Somewhere else, alone with a drink.

‘That was brutal,’ Bridge whistled.

‘I’m sorry you had to witness it.’ She managed to sound a lot more normal than she felt, grateful that Bridge’s brand of sympathy was Teflon-coated as she received a pat on the back guaranteed to cure hiccups or dislodge a sweet from a windpipe.