When Bea comes back into the kitchen, she is glancing down at her Nokia 3310 which we love to mock her about – along with all her other Nineties tech.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Bea says, looking flustered. ‘Our nanny is really ill and it’s fucking absolutely everything up. I really do rely on her.’

‘It’s OK. You’re spinning so many plates. Don’t apologize.’

‘Also, Ol, I’ve made a terrible mix-up. I just got a text reminding me – I totally forgot I have another friend coming over today. A mum friend. She’s a darling, though. I think you’ll like her.’ Bea smiles at me a little nervously. ‘We can have lunch all together?’

My heart sinks slightly, but I smile reassuringly. ‘Great! The more the merrier then,’ I say. I don’t want to make her feel bad for double-booking – she’s a mum, she’s already consumed with guilt on a daily basis, so the last thing she needs is a dose from me.

The doorbell rings and I go to answer it as Bea is finishing off some final things in the kitchen for lunch. She is also baking banana bread and the house is filled with a warm and toasty smell. It drifts down the corridor and under our noses just like a Tom and Jerry cartoon. When I answer the door, a woman with very voluminous hair smiles and says hello before grabbing my shoulders and kissing me on both cheeks.

‘Hi! I’m Belle!’ Her face is radiant, her cheeks peach with expensive-looking blusher. ‘Are you Bea’s lovely nanny?’

‘No – I’m Bea’s best friend, Olive.’

I thought it best to lay down some facts. Best friend.

‘Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry. So lovely to meet you. This is my daughter Florence. Or Flossy as we call her. Flossy say hi – don’t be rude to the lady!’

The lady? I look down and Flossy is picking her scabby nose. I bet she wipes bogies on sofas.

Belle is wearing a beautiful cashmere jumper and her hair is immaculately blow-dried. When she pulls back from the air-kissing, I get a whiff of her perfume; she smells amazing. She looks like a walking, talking filtered photo.

I move back and signal with my hand for them to come in. Belle smiles at me again and walks through to the kitchen, holding Flossy’s hand. She follows reluctantly, like a small, lazy dog.

Belle gallops into the kitchen to find Bea. ‘Ahh Bea! Long time no … Flossy please stop tugging my sleeve – so good to see you!’

‘Thanks for travelling to me this time!’ Bea says, hugging her, holding a spatula.

‘Of course, my pleasu— Flossy I already gave you a tissue – what a lovely house this is!’

‘Thank you – tea? Breakfast or Earl Grey, just making up a pot.’

‘Breakfast please, wow this view – Flossy stop that noise darling please – it’s a little slice of heaven, this location!’

I stand there like a lemon. Flossy has snot running onto her top lip. Belle smiles at me again. Your kid is gross, I think to myself, smiling back.