Hanna shot them all a distracted smile as she walked through into the kitchen. It was the usual chaotic mess in spite of Bell’s best efforts to keep it tidy; the weaponry involved in making Linus’s emergency sandwich was still on the counter, Max’s files were spread across the table, and the twins’ costumes for the upcoming Midsommar festival had once again been pulled from the dressing-up box and strewn across the floor during a game of ‘weddings’.

Bell grabbed the stray garments as she jogged in, folded them expertly into neat piles, and set to wiping off the crumbs and putting the dirty cutlery into the dishwasher, ready for Max to put it on tonight. He was on a deadline for his new client, and would be only coming to join them at the end of the week.

‘Did you find the beach towels?’ Hanna asked her, checking for something in her purse.

‘Yes. They were in the blue Ikea bag at the top of the wardrobe in the spare room.’

Hanna stopped, as if to consider this. ‘Oh yes. I didn’t think to look there. Huh.’

‘And Linus has packed his project,’ Bell said, half over her shoulder as she rinsed the glasses that had been left in the sink.

She stopped again. ‘Remind me . . .?’

‘Glacial retreat in the Arctic Circle.’

‘Oh yes.’ Hanna zipped up her purse and replaced it in her bag, pulling out the tickets and casually skimmed over the details; but Bell already knew the reason Max was red-cheeked and wild-eyed was because they had to leave in precisely six minutes if they were going to make it to the ferry.

She turned off the tap and shook her hands dry, realizing too late that she had forgotten to plant out the potted rose Hanna had received as a gift from a patient.

‘Are you ready? Where is everybody?’ Max’s voice came through the house, his shadow long and angular in the bright sunlit pool on the hall floor. ‘It’s going to leave without you if you don’t get a move on!’

The sound of stampeding feet on the stairs heralded the twins’ call to action, and the slow thud coming up from the playroom reintroduced Linus into the scene, a smear of jam at the corner of his mouth.

‘Have you got everything?’ Hanna asked him, seeing the iPad in his hands again. That and his skateboard were increasingly all he wanted. ‘Did you bring a book?’

‘No, should I?’

‘Should you?’ Hanna tutted. ‘Honestly, Linus, we discussed this.’

‘I’ll go find something now, then.’

‘Hurry up!’ Max’s voice carried through again, growing in impatience. ‘Move faster! You all need to get into the car. Now, now, now.’

Hanna sighed, sounding as exasperated by Max as she was by her son. She swung her handbag over her shoulder. ‘You’ll have to read something already out there then, although I doubt there’ll be much of interest to a ten-year-old boy. Moby-Dick?’ She put her hand on his shoulder, directing him into the square hall and towards the front door. ‘Perhaps that’ll teach you to do as you’re told next time.’