To give her credit, Irene waited a good five minutes before clonking over. Trev paused, his finger still pressed underneath the word he’d been attempting to sound out in his workbook, and wrinkled his forehead. ‘This ain’t going to end well.’

Irene cleared her throat a few times, but given that the woman was too busy trying to persuade her children to stop ransacking the place while pinned to a seat with a nursing baby, she was hardly likely to notice a couple of irritated coughs.

‘Excuse me!’ Irene barked eventually, causing the boys to momentarily pause in their wrestle over a fire engine before resuming with increased vigour. ‘I have previously been clear that if you can’t keep your children’s behaviour under control, then you must leave. This is your final warning.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ the mum replied, tears welling up as her cheeks burnt with shame. She slid off the seat, causing the baby to let out a squawk, and tried to prise the soggy book from Holly’s hand.

Irene twisted her head, eyes scrunched in disgust. ‘Please cover yourself! While I am obliged to permit you to feed your baby here, I must ask you to do it in a dignified manner. Have you no self-respect?’

‘What do you think?’ the woman asked, her voice breaking. She huddled on the floor, tucking her baby in closer so that it could resume feeding. Her head drooped, hair obscuring her face.

One of the boys opened a picture book and began to slowly tear a strip from one of the pages.

‘Harry!’

‘That will need to be paid for!’ Irene shrieked. ‘Stop it at once!’

Holly dropped her mangled book in shock and after a moment’s stunned silence began to howl. I glanced at Trev, aware that we still had seven minutes on the clock.

‘Go on.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the ruckus. ‘I’m sure you’ll make the time up next week.’

Hurrying across to the children’s section, I ducked past Irene and practically threw myself onto the floor beside the toddler.

‘Hey, what’s this?’ I asked, grabbing the nearest toy, which happened to be a grubby plastic ice cream, and looking at it as if I’d discovered a trove of buried treasure. ‘Oooh, tasty! A lovely ice cream on a hot day. Yummy!’ I yelled over the sound of the younger boy screeching like a monkey as he climbed the shelf behind me, the other impersonating a police siren as he began racing up and down. I moved the chew-marked plastic as close to my mouth as I dared and pretended to give it a lick. ‘Mmm!’