At that point Deb emerged from the kitchen. When she asked if the meat was done, Clarke headed for the barbecue. Some of the women swooped on their offspring, telling them it was nearly time for lunch and did they need to go to the toilet? I realised one of the kids being herded past me was in my class.

‘Who does Amber belong to?’ I asked Deb.

‘Beth. And Cam. Amber’s such a sweetie.’

‘I know.’ Amber was one of those children who melt your heart every time they open their mouths. She was all wide-eyed wonder and boundless empathy.

‘Sorry—I haven’t introduced you.’ Deb turned around and waved at someone. ‘Beth! This is Robyn. I don’t know if you’ve met.’

‘On Friday. Briefly,’ Beth said with a neat little smile.

Dammit, I thought, because I was drawing a blank. That first day of school was always a mess of new names and strange faces. It wasn’t the first time I’d forgotten one.

Stalling, I said, ‘Amber’s such a lovely girl.’

Beth lit up. She was a small, brisk, bespectacled woman with clipped hair and a permanent crease between her eyebrows, but at the mention of her daughter everything softened: eyes, mouth, voice, posture. ‘Thank you.’

‘I wish I had Amber in my class,’ Deb complained, ‘though I guess poor Rob needs someone to make up for Aaron Rooney.’

Beth rolled her eyes. I was surprised at Deb. Bitching about a student to another student’s mother wasn’t exactly best practice.

‘Joyce was on the council once,’ Deb told me. ‘Beth had to work with her.’

‘She didn’t last long.’ Beth wiped her forehead with exaggerated relief. ‘Burned too many bridges. Everything was always about her.’ After swallowing a mouthful of lemonade, she added, ‘Still got an iron grip on Rotary, though.’

‘Yeah, she was throwing her weight around the CWA for a few years, but we have ways of dealing with that kind of thing. She walked out in the end.’ Seeing my inquisitive glance, Deb described how Joyce’s husband had owned a successful tree-lopping business, which Joyce had sold after his death. ‘She used the money to buy some properties around here, so now she’s living off rents. Gives her a lot of clout.’

‘You should have seen her when Scott was dating Krystal.’ Beth shuddered. ‘She was still on the council then, and she nearly got Mitch run out of town.’

I was losing my way. Mitch? Who was Mitch?

‘Mitch McCall.’ Deb must have noticed my confusion, because she went on to explain, ‘He’s Krystal’s grandfather. You must have seen his house. All that crap out front? It’s not far from you. On Opal Street.’

‘Lots of junk,’ said Beth. ‘Mirrors. Signs.’