She shook her head. ‘Having no friends to see made it easier. I could pretend our strange little life was normal and focus instead on the children. I didn’t have to hear how happy everyone else was. How their biggest problem was builders overrunning on their extension. Or finding a good holiday destination with a kids’ club. What could I say? What could I share about my life? Yesterday Frederick screamed at Florence – for playing with Play-Doh she found in his office – to such a terrifying degree she wouldn’t say a word for hours. She was shaking as he went on and on about how she shouldn’t ever go through his things.’ She looked up at me. ‘Or I could tell them about that time our ten-month-old nearly cut his finger off because Frederick left him alone with the bread knife and, rather than comfort him, rather than try and bandage it or make it better, he locked him in the bathroom so he couldn’t bleed on any carpet while he carried on working on his laptop.’

I didn’t doubt what Camilla was saying for a second.

‘I nearly left him that day. By the time I came back home Arthur had screamed so much he could barely breathe. I even booked an appointment with a lawyer. But I couldn’t go through with it. Who would believe me? I’d had a breakdown after Arthur was born. My mental health was what would be considered questionable. I had no evidence of any wrongdoing on his part.’ She shrugged. ‘I had nothing on him. He was a paper-perfect model citizen and government employee. Even if I had the courage to leave him, he’d still be allowed weekends with them. He’d still be allowed to be alone with them. I couldn’t let that happen. He took Florence out early this morning when I was asleep with Arthur in his room. She came back howling with a hurt arm. I don’t even—’

‘I was there. I was out running. He didn’t see me but I was right there. She fell from the top of the climbing frame. He didn’t react – didn’t look up from his phone.’ I thought back to Frederick’s look of disinterest. How he’d held her at arm’s-length. ‘That’s when I knew.’

Camilla closed her eyes.

‘My poor baby. My poor babies. This is all my fault. All my fault.’ She dropped her head into her hands and began to cry.