Craig wanted to introduce Julia gradually to Fergus, one step at a time, and she, thankfully, had eventually agreed. They had managed the process carefully and sensitively, first by Craig and Frankie showing Fergus the baby photos he’d never seen (‘So, you know how babies come out of ladies’ tummies? Well, you came out of THIS lady’s tummy – look, here she is, with a big tummy, and you’re inside. Then – pop! – here you are. That’s Mummy Julia, remember we saw her in the playground that day?’) and doing their best to answer his questions. Then they’d invited Julia round to the flat a couple of times, so that she could play trains with him (lucky woman) and read him stories, taking everything at Fergus’s pace.

Bless him, despite their angst and dread beforehand, he’d been totally cool about the whole situation – ‘Lots of people at school have extra mummies and daddies,’ he’d said grandly – and Julia appeared to be trying her hardest too, markedly humbler and more acquiescent than she’d seemed on first arrival. She’d found herself a part-time job in a vegan café and was renting a small flat in Acton, not too far away, and had just started picking Fergus up from school one afternoon a week and giving him his tea. Most importantly, she had calmed right down, dropping her aggression and being more cooperative. She’d even confessed to Frankie how stressful she’d found motherhood initially, how scared she’d been that she wasn’t a natural, but how determined she was to put things right now. She was seeing a therapist and working through her problems, and Frankie could tell that, although she was still troubled, Julia was doing her best. At times she found herself actually liking the other woman, especially her sparky sense of humour. She could understand why Craig had loved her all those years ago.

‘I have a daddy and two mummies now,’ Frankie had overheard Fergus loftily telling his friend Preena in the park the other day. ‘One is Mumma and she’s my favourite, but Mummy Julia is funny and has hair like me.’