It was a constant feeling of unease. Never quite knowing when this façade would crack. A seemingly normal tableau would fall apart and all the innocent personas would drop and they would be coming for us.

The only ambush on the school run I wanted to worry about was from a well-meaning mother insisting I come along to a mums’ night out.

It was bad enough stressing about whether me working was affecting Gigi emotionally, let alone it being a threat to her actual physical safety. Over-the-top concern about harm coming to your child was one of the staples of parenthood – it was right up there with lack of sleep, unflushed toilets, and having to hide to eat a biscuit.

I was strong. I was capable. I could scan a room and assess the threats. I could work out who could cause me harm. Who I could take in a fight. Who I couldn’t. I had confidence as I knew where I stood. I knew what I could do.

But when I looked at Gigi all that confidence fell away. I was vulnerable. She was my walking, talking weak spot.

I took a deep breath. It was just five days I had to get through. Five days of looking over my shoulder and assessing everyone giving me a second glance as a potential threat.

I could do this for five days.

Then I’d take a long overdue blower and spend some proper time with Will.

Keep Peng alive, save the Security Services and get my marriage back on track. As to-do lists went, it was an ambitious one.

Sophia counted to twenty!

Florence rode a bike!

Barnaby wrote his name in cursive script!

Scarlett loves her baby sister and sang a song for her!

Evie didn’t wake up Mummy and Daddy and slept the whole night in her bed without Calpol!

A noticeboard was covered with stars listing children’s achievements.

I was in the hallway of the nursery Portakabin with Frederick, waiting for the doors to open and our children to be released into the wild.

‘What’s this?’ I motioned towards the board. ‘And why doesn’t Gigi have one?’

‘They’re Wow cards. Parents are meant to bring them in whenever they do something you want to make a big deal of.’

‘Oh, right.’ I racked my brains for something Gigi had done recently that warranted a celebratory public shout-out. She hadn’t pooed her pants for a whole week now but I felt that might be an announcement that lowered the tone.

It seemed just to be an avenue for parents to show off about their kids. Well, except for Evie’s achievement. That had an air of desperation. And perhaps social services.

The doors opened and the children were dispatched to us one by one.

Florence came first, then Gigi, both brandishing chocolate cupcakes covered in what looked like mini marshmallows.