I wanted to point out that we’d hardly get robbed in the middle of the day, with me at home, on a street so quiet it felt deserted, but I could see she was spoiling for a fight. Anyway, I was sure I had closed it. I remembered pushing it to earlier as I struggled inside with Carson in one arm and a brown bag of shopping in the other. I glanced at Madison and saw the guilt on her face. She liked to look out of the front windows to see if her dad was on his way home – perhaps she had graduated to opening the door?

I decided to take the blame anyway. ‘I’m really sorry, Abby, I’ll be more careful. It won’t happen in future.’

‘See that it doesn’t.’ Her gaze swung, landing on her daughter. ‘What the hell are you wearing?’

Madison was trembling. ‘I’m sorry, Mommy.’

I didn’t understand what was wrong. ‘She’s allowed in the pool, isn’t she? I’ve been watching the whole time.’

‘Not in that suit! That’s a competition swimsuit, it can’t get wet! Look!’ And sure enough a handful of sequins were floating about the shallow end, catching the sun in sharp, shattering fragments. ‘That suit cost a hundred dollars!’

Madison started to cry. Abby strode over and lifted her out, soaking wet. She must have been strong, despite her tiny frame, because Madison at five was no lightweight. Her fingers dug into the child’s arms and legs, which must have hurt. But what could I do? I listened to Madison’s howls as she was dragged up the stairs, then suddenly cut off as a door slammed deep in the house. I tried not to think about what might be happening in Madison’s bedroom now, how Abby would be yanking off that expensive swimsuit, then perhaps slapping the backs of Madison’s legs, as my mother used to do to me if I was naughty. Leaving her to stand there, dripping and naked, humiliated.

Carson had woken up now, and was fussing. I lifted him out of his pram, pressing my lips to his forehead to check he wasn’t too warm. He settled in against me, his eyes drooping again as he drifted back to sleep. At least I could protect him.

‘Shh, shh, it’s OK. I won’t let her get to you, I promise.’

Abby wrenched the door open again, making me jump. She was barefoot now, so I hadn’t heard her approach. ‘I’m taking the cost of that suit out of your wages, just so you know.’

‘But . . .’ A hundred dollars was almost a week’s salary. ‘Abby, I didn’t know it was special. She came downstairs wearing it, and she was so happy, she wanted to look pretty . . .’