That wasn’t much consolation. Because Frankie didn’t know her, and didn’t know what she was capable of, either. And so, even though she wanted to be fair to Julia and not completely write her off, Frankie found herself sticking close to Fergus when he went to his friend Preena’s soft-play party at the weekend. Usually she’d nurse a coffee in a nearby café, far from the seething ball-pit of frenzied small children – but not today. ‘The things we mums put up with, eh?’ one of the other women had laughed to her, when the two of them ended up scrambling through a shiny red tunnel to haul out a stuck toddler, and the words had stabbed at Frankie like daggers. If Julia took Fergus, Frankie wouldn’t be a mum any more, she realized bleakly. This whole world would become closed to her overnight, the metal shutters abruptly dropping, sealing her off. The thought was unbearable. Fergus had been like the most wonderful gift, the bonus package that came with Craig. She had fallen in love with them both at the same time, and had adored learning how to be Fergus’s mummy. ‘Do you think you two might have a kid together one day? Another kid, I mean?’ friends had asked now and then, and Frankie always felt torn when it came to answering. Yes, of course she’d love to have a baby with Craig – but then she already adored Fergus so absolutely. Was there even room in her heart for anyone else?

She had taken it for granted that he would forever be her child and she his mummy, that was the thing. But she wasn’t really his mummy, was she? She had been acting the part all this time. And now she was in danger of having Fergus – and motherhood – snatched away from under her nose.

‘Aren’t we the lucky ones?’ she replied to the mum who’d spoken to her, forcing a laugh. Inside, though, she felt like clutching at Fergus and never letting him go. Sometimes you didn’t know how lucky you’d been until you were in danger of losing it all.