About a metre away one of the school mums—Belinda? Linda?—is on the phone, excitedly relaying the action in the pool, probably to her high-flying husband. Oli vaguely remembers meeting him, a self-important guy who delighted in telling her that no one would be reading newspapers by 2020. Belinda-Linda gives Oli a funny look, then smiles and looks pointedly at the water. The cheering intensifies, and Oli gets to her feet, squinting at the finish line. Two girls hit the side of the pool in unison, pulling their goggles off as they turn around, faces hopeful. One of the twins reaches out, clutching the tiled ledge. Third place? Oli is surprised to register a surge of pride as she watches Kate—she’s pretty sure it’s Kate—accept congratulations from her teammates before hoisting herself out of the pool. Oli waves to her, but she doesn’t notice, shuffling over to the bench wrapped in a towel, still wearing her cap. Amy remains in the pool, holding on to a lane rope and staring at the scoreboard.

Oli sits back down, looking from twin to twin. All of the other swimmers are out of the pool now except Amy. Oli tries to read the situation. Is she upset? Should Oli go down and talk to her? On the way here, the swimming competition didn’t seem that important to her, and both girls were fairly subdued, but perhaps Amy’s embarrassed that Kate swam so much better. Oli doesn’t pretend to understand the dynamics of life as a twin, but for the first time she wonders how it might feel to have your identical sister outshine you. It was bad enough for Oli with Lily being so popular.

One of the teachers crouches at the edge of the pool and speaks to Amy. She gets out of the water, joins her sister on the bench. Belinda-Linda throws Oli a sympathetic smile before waving madly at one of her kids, mouthing something even though he has no chance of comprehending from this distance.

It’s like interval at the theatre. Oli hears snippets: problems with builders, problems at work, a new environmentally friendly laundry detergent, someone’s husband has left them for someone else’s wife. She recognises some faces from her sporadic morning drop-offs but has no desire to chime in. She’s very aware that as the fiancée of a widow, she unintentionally brings an awkwardness to situations like this. No doubt these people all loved Isabelle. Her insides twist. She hates that she can’t work out how much of this paranoia is driven by her own insecurities and how much of it is real.