‘Do you have vodka?’ Cynthia asked Mary, shaking her empty wine glass.

‘Oh. I’m not sure,’ Mary said. She was sure, she knew they did, but she couldn’t quite work out if it was OK to offer it to an on-duty babysitter. Susie and Tom were talking to Victor and didn’t seem to notice.

‘We do indeed have vodka,’ Robbie said, chiming in. ‘Come on inside and I’ll get you some.’

Mary watched as Robbie placed an arm lightly over Cynthia’s bare shoulders to steer her indoors.

Fran hid a smile as Zara stared open-mouthed after Robbie and Cynthia.

‘Oh my God, tell me he’s not interested in that,’ Zara whispered, uncorking a fresh bottle of white wine.

Fran shook her head. ‘He’s getting her a drink, that’s all.’

‘That’s our job. I don’t know why he’d be bringing her into the house to do something he’s literally paying us to do? I mean—’ Zara stopped suddenly, and Fran noticed she was swaying a little. ‘Oh God.’

‘What is it?’

‘The smell of the wine. Jesus. It’s making my stomach turn.’

‘Is it gone off?’ Fran leaned in and took a sniff. ‘It smells fine to me.’

‘Ugh. God. I need to go in and get a glass of water. Can you manage without me?’

Fran looked around at the small clusters of guests dotted across the lawn. ‘Yeah, I think I can handle the hordes for five minutes,’ she said with a grin. She picked up Zara’s abandoned bottle of white wine and made her way down the garden. Why Mary felt the need to have ‘staff’ at something like this was beyond her, but if she wanted to pay good money to have them dress like waitresses and top up wine, Fran was more than happy to do it. All the more dollars for Virginia Beach.

Down near the paddling pool, she hovered beside a group of chattering guests – her mother, the Stedmans, the O’Briens and Mary Murphy. Nobody paid her any attention and she made an executive decision that their glasses were sufficiently full. She sat on a vacant chair a little to the side of the group, taking a moment to enjoy the sun.

Something drew her attention to the pool. The noise? No, the lack of noise – the splashing had stopped. Cora and Lily were lying side by side. Cora’s arm across Lily’s chest. Both girls’ faces just below the surface. The water calm and quiet. The thought came to Fran subconsciously at first, casually in tune with the lazy, summer afternoon. Why weren’t they splashing any more?

She sat up straight.

Why aren’t they splashing?

How long had Lily been under the water?

Fran zipped off the chair as time slowed down. She ran, conscious of the contrast: the background hum of conversation and the total silence from the girls. Sunlight dappled still water. Two figures shimmered beneath the surface. Fran stooped at the side of the pool. On her knees, she pushed Cora’s arm off Lily and pulled Lily by the shoulder, so her face was out of the water. Lily’s eyes were closed, her lips pale. Fran shook her and Lily blinked in the sunlight, beginning to cough. Mary’s voice came from behind.