They went back down to the kitchen where Sean and Alice sat at the table, Sean staring blindly at the sports pages of The Guardian, a can of beer beside him, even though it was only lunchtime. Alice’s fingers pecked listlessly at her mobile. She looked wan and unhappy, but somehow that realization only made Helen feel even angrier with her.

‘Alice,’ she began, ignoring the alarmed warning look from Sean, whose head had shot up at the tone of her voice.

‘What,’ said Alice, a statement not a question. She might as well have added . . . ever.

‘Nothing,’ Helen replied flatly. She had an awful feeling that if she started on Alice, she’d never stop. But even though she hadn’t said anything further, Alice, affronted, still pushed back her chair, its legs making a loud grating sound on the stone floor.

Sean jumped up too, and in the panicked way he had whenever Alice kicked off, ran across to her and wrapped her in the sort of huge bear hug that Helen wished he’d bestow on her, his own wife, more often.

Alice, however, wriggled out of his grasp. She was crying, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, her pale face reddening with outrage as she faced Helen.

‘I know what you were going to say,’ howled Alice, working herself up into the full tantrum, fists clenched at her sides like a six year old. ‘You really don’t trust me at all, do you? In fact, I bet you blame me for Frankie being kidnapped, don’t you? Of course you fucking do! I was babysitting, it was my fault, that’s what you think, isn’t it? Why don’t you just have the guts to come out and say it, you horrible—’

‘Alice!’ said Sean and the FLO simultaneously. The FLO abandoned her tea-making mission and sprang into action, rushing over to try and calm her down. She had no idea what a futile gesture that was, thought Helen. Once Alice was in full-on meltdown, there was nothing anyone could do.

‘I just wanted you to swear on Frankie’s life that Larry didn’t come over that night,’ Helen said, taking the bull by the horns. At that moment she didn’t care if Alice never spoke to her again, or how cross Sean was with her for ‘upsetting’ Alice.

Alice made a frustrated sound, half scream, half angry expostulation, pulled the FLO’s hand off her, grabbed her phone off the table and stormed out, slamming the Russells’ front door. The FLO rushed after her.

Helen’s heart sank, hearing the commotion that this caused amongst the four or five paparazzi on the pavement outside the front gate. She could hear the cameras clicking from the kitchen, and the sound of male voices: ‘Alice, what’s the matter?’ ‘Alice, how are your folks feeling about the news about Izzy?’