She tiptoed back downstairs and found a Waitrose carrier bag in the kitchen into which she put a couple of the plastic sippy cups and a bottle with a teat that she selected from the dozens in the cupboard. Helen was the sort of mum who stockpiled stuff in the kitchen like nuclear war was about to break out any minute – the cupboard next to the fridge was packed full of long-life milk, cereal bars, boxes of raisins and Pom-Bear crisps. She found night-time nappies under the sink, and took half a dozen of those. Nobody would notice a few things missing, and tomorrow she could go out and get some more supplies if she stole cash from her mum’s purse. She glanced at the huge clock on the wall – 10:05 P.M. They wouldn’t be back till probably eleven at least, and Alice and Larry would likely be in bed for half an hour.

She left the bulging Waitrose bag by the back door and crept back upstairs. Frankie was wearing pink pyjamas with Tinkerbell on and was breathing steadily around the thumb plugged loosely into her mouth. She was hot, and little spikes of black hair were plastered to her forehead. She looked so sweet.

Georgia had her first moment of doubt. Would Frankie sleep alright with her in the double bed in the flat? What would she do with her, when she had to go out to get stuff? She could hardly take her with her. But, she reckoned, it was only for a few days, and she wouldn’t leave Frankie for long when she did have to go out. Nobody would hear if she cried – it was a garden flat facing away from the road, and as far as Georgia knew, nobody was living in the first-floor flat, and when they’d been there the other day to make the movie, post for the people on the top floor was all piled up in the hallway, so they must be away . . .