Squiggles of green and blue and orange and red all mingled together to make an undesirable sludge brown. In fairness, what did anyone expect with undeveloped pincer grips and cheap paints? At least it meant I had a Christmas present sorted for Gillian, the world’s most doting grandmother. Gigi’s last finger painting, which Will and I both agreed looked like a wanking giraffe, had brought tears of joy to her eyes.

I looked down at Gigi. She was staring at her teapot again and smiling. I kissed the top of her head.

‘You are amazing.’ No lie here. She was perfection and I marvelled at her every single day.

I looked over at Bella. ‘So what are you doing today, Bella?’

‘Claudia! Sleepover!’ shouted Bella.

Peppa laughed. ‘We’re staying with some friends tonight. Their daughter is Bella’s age.’

‘Sorry I’m late.’ Kate appeared at the table. Her eyes were bloodshot and for the first time since I’d met her she wasn’t wearing make-up.

‘Hello, Mama!’ Her twins waved at her with paint-covered hands.

‘Hello, boys.’ She dropped down in between them and gave them each a kiss. ‘Thanks so much, Naomi, for taking them.’

‘Anytime.’ Naomi beamed. ‘Nice to have them, and nice to hand them back.’

‘Hi, Kate, we’ve met before. I’m Suze.’

Kate looked over at her and nodded. ‘Nice to see you.’

‘You OK, Kate?’ I asked.

‘I just . . . I’ve had some bad news. My mother is not doing so well.’

Looking at her there was no doubting that she was genuine. Having seen some of her work I knew she wasn’t a good enough actress to fake that kind of raw emotion. She looked terrible.

She fingered her sleeve. ‘I just thought we’d have more time. I mean, we’ve never got on that well. But she’s my mum, you know?’

She was interrupted by her mobile going. She answered it and spoke a few monotonous yes and nos, and then, ‘OK, got it. And don’t forget. It was a special surprise to find four puppies there.’

I looked up at her. That was the sentence contained in the last suspicious email to George.

‘Wow, you’re getting four puppies?’

‘It’s a stupid dictation for my eldest son’s spelling test. Utter pain in the arse. I leave it to my husband to drill him on them.’

I didn’t know how I was going to break it to Geraint and Pixie that their efforts to crack the email code were wasted as it was simply a bloody spelling test.

I looked at Kate as she spoke quietly to her twins and dabbed the side of their teapots. George Pig was fully in the clear. I was glad. The last thing she needed adding to her trauma was us popping her husband.