‘Excuse me?’ It was the first time I’d seen Leanne since she’d cried with me last Saturday. It was as though that vulnerable, open version of my neighbour had been a temporary illusion.

‘I can’t believe I fell for your nicey-nice, “Ooh, I understand, Leanne, I only want to help, we all go through hard times, Leanne.” What a complete load of crap.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Oh, of course you don’t.’ She took a long drag on her cigarette, before breaking off into a cackle. ‘You’re just a friendly, helpful neighbour! Not at all interested in poking around in my business so you can run straight to the phone with all the juicy gossip you found. As if our life wasn’t shitty enough, Miss Neighbourhood Watch has to chuck in a hand grenade. I mean,’ she scoffed, ‘I tolerated this weird little obsession with my daughter, put it down to you having no life of your own. I can even believe you’d get a nasty little kick from interfering, because you’re bored, and I don’t know, in some twisted way jealous of me having Joan. I’ve met people like that before. But to do this to Joan? To that beautiful child? The only thing stopping me from beating the crap out of you right now is because I won’t give anyone another excuse to take my daughter.’

‘Leanne, I genuinely don’t know what you mean. I haven’t gossiped to anyone about you.’

‘No? No secret little calls to social services from a concerned Bigley citizen?’

My stomach shrivelled into a cold, hard lump.

Certain that the guilt of all the times I’d thought about doing exactly that must be showing on my face, I jumped to my feet, flailing about for a response that conveyed the truth, but perhaps not the whole truth.

‘Someone called social services?’ I held out my hands. ‘I promise you that wasn’t me.’

Leanne studied me for a charged few moments, thoughts racing behind her eyes. ‘Well, why else did a social worker turn up on my doorstep, looking to investigate an allegation of neglect?’

‘Leanne.’ I had to sit back down again. ‘If I had concerns that serious, I would have spoken to you about them first. Offered more help.’

I might not have spoken to her – I couldn’t imagine confronting this fire-breathing monster about her parenting standards – but I would definitely have offered more help.