‘I . . .’ I didn’t know what to say to that. I had woken up with pre-period spots all over my chin, and part of me was hurt by her comment, even though she was only five. ‘I’d rather look like this than a drag queen,’ I muttered. It wasn’t fair. She was a child. But really, so was I.

‘What’s a drag queen?’

Oh God, she’d heard. ‘Nothing. I’m sorry, Madison. You do look pretty. Now, shall we finish icing the cake for Aunt Ruth?’

She wouldn’t let it go. ‘I’m going to ask Mommy if I look pretty.’

‘No, sweetie, don’t . . . She’ll be angry.’ That was usually enough to stop Madison. Getting me in trouble was maybe not worth the risk of getting herself in trouble too. ‘Here.’ I took a red Lifesaver from the bag in a high cupboard and pressed it into her hands.

Madison frowned. ‘I’m not allowed candy.’

‘Our secret.’ A phrase you should never say to a child, especially one that isn’t your own. Madison took it, then tucked it very carefully inside her pocket to eat later. She knew how to hide things, even at her age.

Not long after, I heard the car in the drive and tensed all through my arms and legs. I had never met this woman, Ruth Safran, but the stress of her arrival had seeped into me, and I wanted everything perfect. I straightened a lemon in the fruit bowl, ran a hand through my own messy hair, which I hadn’t had time to brush.

Abby came down the stairs, sweeping in a maxi dress, her hair piled up, a lot of make-up on her too. She looked beautiful, like a seventies’ starlet. Carson was in her arms, held carefully away from her dress. I was wearing a short denim skirt and a vest top that I now saw Carson had dribbled on earlier. My legs needed shaving, but I’d run out of razors and didn’t know where to get more, plus I had the spots and my belly felt swollen, bulging over the waistband of my skirt. Still. Abby would not have liked it if I’d outshone her.

‘Where’s Madison?’ she said. ‘I wanted everyone ready.’

‘Um . . .’ I had lost sight of her in my rush to tidy the kitchen. ‘She was just here.’

‘Madison!’ Abby howled. ‘Get in here right now!’

Footsteps. Madison rushed in from the garden and I saw with dismay that the illicit sweet had melted all down her dress, leaving sticky red stains. Some was on her face too.

‘Mommy! Can I do my dance for Aunt Ruth?’ She was oblivious to the stains.

Abby’s face was like thunder. ‘Oh my God, look at the state of you! Dirty little girl, you can’t stay clean for five minutes?’

Madison sagged, rubbing ineffectually at her front.