‘Yes, I think I will,’ Penny said abruptly. She shouldered her way out into the yard and I saw her sit down next to Evelyn, who didn’t move up to make room.

I concentrated on persuading Cassie to use her spoon. The child’s soft chin and cheeks were coated with tomato sauce and there was a globule stuck in her black eyelashes. ‘Mucky baby,’ I told her.

‘Sadie-la-aaaady,’ she retorted and I took the opportunity to post a loaded forkful into her open mouth. Between her spoon and my fork, we emptied the dish. I had taken it away and replaced it with a pot of yoghurt when I saw Penny jump up from the bench and walk down the path towards the bindery. Her fists were buried in the pockets of her trousers and even though they were hidden from me I knew that they were clenched.

‘I don’t like that,’ Cassie protested.

‘Yes you do, it’s strawberry. Your favourite.’

‘Yucky.’

‘Mucky yucky you.’

She stuck out her tongue. ‘Poo.’

‘Poo to you too.’

I took the yoghurt pot away and wiped Cassie’s face clean. ‘Shall we finish the puzzle?’

The cauliflower was always the last piece and her starfish hands were just pressing it into place when Evelyn came in again. Two patches of dull red showed high up on her cheekbones. ‘Come on, Cass. Bathtime now,’ she said. Without a glance at me she swept the child into her arms and carried her away up the stairs, her long skirt swirling behind her in a blur of colour and scent. The perfume was flowery and sweet.

Penny came in when she had gone and took a two-thirds-full bottle of wine out of the fridge. ‘Drink?’

‘Yes, a quick one.’ I was thinking of Jack who would already have been home for an hour. Penny’s hand was shaking as she sloshed wine into two glasses.

‘What’s wrong?’ I asked about a minute later, when Penny had already drunk half of hers.

‘Nothing’s wrong.’

‘Ah.’

From the time when we first met at college, and afterwards when the boys at her first job laughed at her and made leering remarks about rug munchers, it had been hard to get Penny to talk about herself or her feelings. Her square face flushed and she would try to change the subject, or else just walk away. Lately, though, since meeting Evelyn, she had been more open. Happiness had lowered her guard and softened the edges of her suspicion.

For this reason I pushed a bit harder now. ‘Is it Evelyn?’

‘What do you mean? Is what Evelyn?’

Her wine glass was empty so I filled it again. I hadn’t touched mine yet. ‘You don’t have to keep everything to yourself, you know.’

Penny’s laugh sounded more like a cough or a groan. ‘You can talk.’