Helen had already persuaded Frankie into her Dry-Nite pull-ups and brushed cotton pyjamas. She was rubbing her daughter’s hair dry and helping her clean her tiny teeth by the time Alice finally dragged herself away from her beloved iPad and the endless supply of humorous YouTube videos and old episodes of The Big Bang Theory which was all she ever seemed to watch.

Frankie’s face lit up when she saw her big sister. ‘Ali! You read my story, yeah?’

‘Alright, trouble. Come on, let’s go and choose a book. Only one, mind, and no fuss when it’s finished.’

Frankie wriggled off Helen’s lap and dragged Alice away towards her room.

‘Alice?’ Helen called, unbuttoning her shirt to change it for a dry one. ‘If you let the cat out the back door, make sure you—’

‘—lock it again straight away. I know, Helen. Chill out! I’m not stupid.’

‘We won’t be late back, no later than about half ten anyway. Have you got revision to do?’

‘Nah. Only Drama left, and I don’t need to revise for that. It’s a practical.’

‘Call us if anything at all doesn’t – well – seem right.’

It sounded crazy. Alice had babysat loads of times in the past year or two – but it was only in the past month that two small children had been abducted in the area . . . Alice rolled her eyes to indicate that she held the same opinion – that it did sound crazy.

‘Um – one more thing . . . Larry’s not coming over, is he?’

Alice squared up to her, with Frankie still clinging on. ‘So what if he is? Don’t you trust me to look after Frankie properly?’

Helen took off the damp shirt and hung it on the heated towel rail, turning back to Alice in her bra. Alice looked contemptuously up and down at her body. The look was enough to make the most confident woman wither. Helen wasn’t as slim or pert as she had been before Frankie, her belly softer, gravity and pregnancy having launched a twin assault on her figure.

‘It’s not that. Of course I do. And I don’t dislike him, Alice. I just think that on a school night . . . Plus you know your dad doesn’t like him being here when we’re out.’ She braced herself for the fight, but to her surprise, Alice conceded.

‘He’s not coming round, so don’t get your knickers in a twist.’

‘Good.’

‘STORY, Ali!’ Frankie reminded her, kicking her thin legs against Alice’s hips.

‘Stop it, squirt,’ she grumbled, and carried her away.

‘Hurry up!’

‘Oh Sean, for God’s sake, I’m coming, OK?’

Just as soon as she’d kissed Frankie goodnight.

Later, in the restaurant, both their moods had mellowed after a bottle of silky Merlot, and a very nice coq au vin.

‘This is lovely,’ Helen said.