Another lesson learned. And why the fuck, if Josh was making so much dough these days, didn’t they have a maid? Not that she’d entirely trust a maid to do the cleaning properly, of course.

Shauna fastened a broad smile on her face as she was shown out to where Tanya, Philippa and Chloe were seated around a marble table beneath the shade of a vast cream parasol. The patio – the terrace – overlooked the lawn, just like hers and Josh’s did, just like Philippa and Dave’s too, just like Chloe and Mike’s. It ran on down to the river, which today glittered calmly, like a jewel in the hot sunlight. Last weekend the rain had come and the river had run fast. It had darkened and swollen and swished up over the lawns. Ten feet, then twenty. But then the sun had come out and the waters had receded again.

Now, the setting was idyllic. Perfect. But as she walked in, Shauna saw Philippa’s lips tighten into a thin line. They hadn’t met in quite a while, but straight away Shauna felt her hackles rise at the sight of the woman.

‘Mrs Flynn,’ said the maid, and pulled out a chair for her.

Shauna sat down directly opposite Philippa, Tanya on her left, Chloe on her right.

‘You know Philippa?’ Tanya asked her. She was a chirpy little brunette.

‘Yes. We’ve met,’ said Shauna, exchanging fake smiles with her beautiful blonde arch enemy.

‘And of course you know Chloe, don’t you,’ said Tanya, pointing out the woman with the auburn bob.

‘Hi, Shauna,’ said Chloe with the languid drawling delivery of the comfortably wealthy.

‘Of course I know Chloe, we’re right next door to each other,’ said Shauna, smiling even though Chloe never seemed that friendly. She never waved back when Shauna saw her out on the drive and waved to her. No borrowing cups of sugar off this lady.

The maid brought a starter – Caesar salad – and the girls started to eat as Tanya chattered on. Philippa was silent, sipping her wine, sending spiked looks across the table at Shauna.

‘What we do is this,’ said Tanya as the maid cleared away the plates and brought out the main course – thin slices of beef in a watery sauce, with minuscule portions of undercooked greasy carrots and broccoli. ‘We go to, say, Phil’s house, and she does the starter, then to Chloe’s for the main, and, say, to yours for pudding. The husbands come too, of course. It makes a lovely evening.’