The contents of the box spilled onto the tarmac. A film canister rolled onto the road. A small carved wooden crocodile bounced under the hedge. A blurred, underexposed photograph of Clem holding a sleepy koala bear spread at their feet.

‘She’s exhausted,’ said Frankie, apologetically, as she approached them. ‘She’s been so looking forward to seeing you she didn’t sleep on the plane. Did she, Adrian?’

‘Hardly.’

‘It’s getting dirty!’ shouted Clem. ‘It’s all ruined.’

She bounded after the crocodile, crouching her frantic little body under the hedge to gather it up.

‘Clem,’ said Irene, her voice wobbling with love. ‘Darling Clem, it’s fine. I want to see it all as soon as we get inside. Here, let’s put everything back in the box.’

‘Leave me alone. You don’t care.’

She was pushing things back into the box, then she stood up, holding the box to her chest, and started running back down the pavement, away from them all.

‘She’s overexcited,’ said Sasha in a reassuring voice. ‘She’s glad to be home really.’

‘I know,’ said Irene. ‘Hang on, I won’t be long.’

She caught up with Clem, who’d slowed to a stumbling walk.

‘Show me the photo then,’ she said.

‘You said we had to look at it inside,’ Clem said in a sullen voice. Tears streaked her dirty, mutinous face.

‘I was just being stupid. I want to see it now.’

‘I held it.’

‘Was it soft?’

‘Soft but a bit smelly.’

‘It looks very comfy in your arms; it must have trusted you. Was it heavy?’

‘Really heavy, but I didn’t drop it or anything.’

‘We’ll put it in a proper frame and you can have it by your bed.’

‘That’s good.’

‘Shall we go inside now?’

‘OK.’

They walked up the road hand in hand and stopped by the car, where Frankie stood, shifting from foot to foot, jingling the car keys, anxious to be gone. Irene hardly glanced at her. Aggie was slumped in the child seat, fast asleep. Her head was tipped to one side, and saliva trickled down from her slackly open mouth that was still faintly swollen from the jellyfish sting. Irene saw by the pulse in her eyelids that she was dreaming. She opened the back door and, leaning forward, hauled her straw-headed daughter out like a sack of potatoes, settling her weight on her hip and on her shoulder. Aggie half woke, smiled, murmured something incomprehensible, and snuggled into her mother. Her cheek was damp with sweat.

‘Hello,’ Irene said into the top of her head.

Clem held her skirt tightly in her grubby fist as they walked to the house. Sasha was waiting at the door with Adrian.

‘I didn’t want to go in without you.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t know. I’m worried you’ll have made it all different.’

‘Hardly!’

‘Is my hamster alive?’

‘He certainly is.’