I didn’t follow a word of that. All I heard was ‘sit in the parents’ lounge’, which has got to be better than ‘chase after my daughter, tripping over toy trucks and feeling like a moron’.

‘I’d love to.’

‘We also find it a useful forum for parents to exchange views on parenting issues. I’m sure you’re burning with questions on curriculum … socialization …’

‘Yes!’ I perk up. ‘Actually, I was wondering, do the mothers have lots of coffee mornings, parties, that kind of thing?’

Erica shoots me an odd look. ‘I meant socialization of the children.’

‘Right.’ I clear my throat. ‘The children. Of course.’

As we near the pale wooden door marked Parents’ Lounge, I feel suddenly excited. At last! A chance to make some friends. What I need to do is launch myself whole-heartedly into school life and volunteer for everything and then I’m bound to meet some nice people.

‘Here we are.’ Erica swings open the door to reveal a room furnished with brightly coloured foam chairs, on which are sitting three women, all dressed in workout gear. They’re chatting avidly, but stop and turn with friendly smiles. I beam back, noticing already that one of them has that cool embroidered bag I was looking at in Fred Segal.

‘Let me introduce Rebecca,’ Erica is saying. ‘Rebecca is new to LA, and her daughter Minnie is joining our Toddler Program.’

‘Hi!’ I wave around the room. ‘Lovely to meet you all.’

‘I’m Erin.’

‘Sydney.’

‘Carola. Welcome to LA!’ Carola, who has dark curly hair and lots of interesting-looking silver jewellery, leans forward as Erica leaves the room. ‘How long have you been living here?’

‘Not long. We’re here temporarily for my husband’s work.’

‘And you got a place at Little Leaf?’

‘I know!’ I say brightly. ‘We were so lucky!’

Carola stares at me blankly for a moment, then starts shaking her head. ‘No. You don’t understand. No one just gets a place at Little Leaf. No one.’

The others are nodding their heads emphatically. ‘No one,’ echoes Erin.

‘It just doesn’t happen,’ chimes in Sydney.

I want to point out that if no one gets a place at Little Leaf, what are all their children doing here? But they all look too intense. Clearly this is a serious subject.

‘We didn’t just “get a place”,’ I explain. ‘Minnie had to do a pre-test. And I think my husband made a donation,’ I add a little awkwardly.

Carola is staring at me as though I understand nothing.

‘We all do the pre-test,’ she says. ‘We all make donations. What else did you do?’

‘We wrote five letters,’ says Erin with grim satisfaction. ‘Five.’

‘We’ve pledged to build a rooftop garden for the school,’ says Sydney. ‘My husband and I have already engaged the architect.’

‘We coached Alexa in Karate,’ adds Carola. ‘She’s here on a sports scholarship.’

I stare at them all, open-mouthed. Are these people nuts? I mean, I’m sure it’s a good pre-school and everything. But at the end of the day, it’s still just children hitting each other with Play-Doh.