“. . . standing there so holier-than-thou. Don’t you ever go near my daughter again, do you hear me? You don’t deserve to be a parent. You shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near children.”

Audrey sees the color drain from Lily’s cheeks. She feels the sharp stab of Jess’s words, knows the force with which the attack will land. It is less than three months since Lily was in the hospital grieving for her second miscarried baby. Jess does not know about it but that does not make her words any less hurtful.

“I shouldn’t be allowed near children. That’s a bit rich coming from you. You’ve already driven away the father of your child by being so bloody needy and moody and angry all the time. Now you cling to your daughter as though she’s some kind of possession, not a child in her own right, because she’s all you’ve got left, because you’ve pushed everyone else away. Don’t you dare lecture me about who’s deserving of being a parent and who’s not.”

Audrey senses Jess’s eyes dart toward her but cannot meet her daughter’s gaze. She feels the heat of disloyalty in her cheeks, silently curses Lily for having betrayed confidences about Jess’s broken relationship that Audrey had shared in the belief they would never find their way back.

There is a moment’s silence during which an entire spectrum of possibilities plays out in Audrey’s head: scenes of apology and explanation, tears and reconciliation, of the broken pieces of her family being glued back together so that the joins are barely visible.

“Don’t ever try something like this again, Mum. I will not have Mia exposed to this shit. If you ever pull another stunt like this, I will never let you see Mia again. I mean it. Do you understand?”

Behind the force of Jess’s fury, something catches Audrey’s eye and she glances into the garden.

Standing on the edge of the lawn, looking down into the kitchen, their jaws slack, eyes wide with confusion, stand Mia and Phoebe hand in hand.

Audrey is aware of Jess and Lily following her gaze. Then time seems to speed up, as if someone has pressed a fast-forward button and everything that follows is a blur.

She watches as Jess runs into the garden, scoops Mia into her arms, rushes back through the kitchen and up the stairs without another word, the front door slamming behind her. She watches Lily retrieve Phoebe, hears her daughter’s words only foggily—I’d better get her home. I’ll call you later. I know you were just trying to help but you can’t help someone that unhinged. She’s completely deranged. She feels the soft brush of Lily’s lips on her cheek, feels her face pulling itself into a smile as Phoebe hugs her and whispers goodbye.

And then she is standing in the kitchen, alone, silence throbbing in her ears. She looks out of the patio doors and it is as if the garden is still wearing an imprint of the day’s events, as if she can still see two little girls holding hands, laughing, playing, dancing, while the sun glints against their hair.