What I’m not expecting to see is the vision before me. I have to blink to make sure it’s the Cleath-Stuarts. They look like some celebrity LA family. What’s happened?

Suze looks so spectacular I barely recognize her. For a start, she’s wearing teeny denim shorts. I mean, really, really teeny. Her legs are long and brown and her pedicured feet are in Havaianas. Her long hair is blonder than usual (has she bleached it?) and she’s wearing the most amazing pair of Pucci sunglasses. The children look super-cool, too. The two boys are wearing bomber jackets and gel in their hair and Clementine is rocking teeny little skinny jeans with a vest top.

For a moment I can’t do anything except blink in astonishment. Then Suze sees me and starts waving frantically, and I come to life again and rush forward.

‘Suze!’

‘Bex!’

‘You made it!’ I fling my arms around her, then hug all the children in turn. ‘Suze, your clothes!’

‘Are they OK?’ Suze says at once, anxiously, and brushes at her micro-shorts. ‘I wanted to fit in. Do I look all right?’

‘You look phenomenal! Did you spray that tan on?’ I spot an inked dolphin on her ankle and gasp. ‘Suze, you haven’t gone and got yourself a tattoo!’

‘God, no!’ She laughs. ‘It’s temporary. Everyone’s got tattoos in LA, so I thought I’d better have one for the trip. And some friendship bracelets.’ She waves her arm at me, and I see a stack of about twenty friendship bracelets on her wrist, where normally she has an antique Cartier watch.

‘You’ve been very thorough!’ I say, impressed. ‘You look totally LA. Has Tarkie done the same? Where is he, anyway?’

‘Coming. He stopped to look at some special tree variety in the grounds. And no, he hasn’t done the same.’ She looks suddenly disconsolate. ‘He won’t join in. I bought him this really cool ripped T-shirt and cut-offs, but he won’t wear them. I can’t get him out of his shooting coat.’

‘His shooting coat? In LA?’ I stifle a giggle. Tarquin’s shooting coat is an institution. It’s made of the family tweed and has about ninety-five pockets and smells of wet dog all year round.

‘Exactly! I wanted him to wear a leather bomber jacket, but he refused. He thinks friendship bracelets are stupid and my tattoo is ghastly.’ She looks indignant. ‘It isn’t ghastly. It’s cool!’

‘It’s lovely,’ I say reassuringly.

‘I just thought it would be a chance for him to break away, you know?’ Suze’s indignation fades to a familiar anxiety. ‘He needs to stop moping. He needs to forget about his father, and the LHA, and all of them.’

‘The LHA?’ I say. ‘What’s that?’

‘Oh.’ She grimaces. ‘Didn’t I tell you? It’s the Letherby Hall Association. They’re members of the public who support Letherby Hall. They’ve started a petition against the fountain.’

‘No!’ I exclaim in dismay.

‘I know. And then another lot of them have started a petition for the fountain. They hate each other. They’re all nuts.’ She shudders. ‘Anyway, forget about that. Are there any celebs here?’ Her eyes dart all around as we walk along the path towards the leisure area. ‘I can’t believe you’ve started coming to Golden Peace.’