A little whimper escapes my lips before I can stop it and Carola shoots me an odd glance. ‘Rebecca, meet Queenie. Alicia, I should say.’

It’s Alicia Bitch Long-legs.

Here. In LA. In Minnie’s school.

I feel pinioned with shock. If I weren’t sitting down I think my legs would collapse.

‘Hello, Rebecca,’ she says softly, and I give a little shudder. I haven’t heard that voice for years.

She’s as tall and skinny and blonde as ever, but her style has changed. She’s wearing drapey yoga pants and a grey top and Keds. I’ve never seen Alicia in anything other than heels. And her hair is caught in a low ponytail, which is also very different. As I run my eyes over her, I notice a white and gold twisted bracelet on one wrist. Isn’t that the bracelet they wear at Golden Peace?

‘Do you two know each other?’ says Sydney, with interest.

I want to break into hysterical laughter. Do we know each other? Well, let’s just see now. Over the last few years, Alicia has tried to ruin my career, my reputation, my husband’s business and my wedding. She’s undermined me and looked down on me at every turn. Just seeing her is making my heart race with stress.

‘Yes,’ I manage. ‘Yes, we do.’

‘So that’s why you recommended Rebecca!’ Carola still seems obsessed by this. ‘I was just saying, how on earth did she get a place at such short notice?’

‘I had a word with Erica,’ says Alicia.

Her voice is different, I realize. It’s lower and calmer. In fact, her whole demeanour is calmer. It’s creepy. It’s like she’s had Botox of the soul.

‘Well, aren’t you a sweetie-pie?’ Faith puts an arm fondly around Alicia’s shoulders. ‘Lucky Rebecca to have such a pal!’

‘We were telling Rebecca all about you,’ puts in Carola. ‘Turns out we didn’t need to!’

‘I’ve changed a lot since I saw you last, Rebecca.’ Alicia gives a soft laugh. ‘When was that?’

I’m so shocked, I actually gasp. When was that? How can she ask that? Isn’t it etched into her brain for ever like it is into mine?

‘At my wedding,’ I manage to gulp. When you were being escorted out, kicking and screaming, having tried to ruin the whole thing.

I’m waiting for a flash of understanding, remorse, acknowledgement, something. But her eyes have a weird, bland quality to them.

‘Yes,’ she says thoughtfully. ‘Rebecca, I know we have some issues which we should try to put behind us.’ She puts a hand gently on my shoulder and I immediately recoil. ‘Maybe we could have a cup of mint tea together and talk it through, just the two of us?’

What? All those terrible things she did boil down to ‘issues’?

‘I don’t … You can’t just—’ I break off, my throat dry, my heart thumping, my thoughts all over the place. I don’t know what to say.

No, is what I want to say. You must be joking, is what I want to say. We can’t just put all that behind us.