I looked over at Camilla. In her tailored black trousers and striped silk shirt she looked the part of efficient businesswoman but she didn’t seem able to fully engage with whatever we were talking about. She’d drift off towards the garden while we were in the middle of a conversation. Seated at the table, untouched cup of coffee in front of her, she had only nodded vacantly to my enthused declaration that our daughters were friends and that we lived close to each other. I wondered if Frederick knew this when he married her. That she was a beautiful Barbie doll living in another world. I pictured her in her slick Mayfair gallery. Files piled up on her desk as she stared out the window. Had she always been like this? Had he once found it charming? Why did I care? I shook it off.

By the time the coffee morning was drawing to a close the only mission-relevant information I’d learned was that Daddy Pig had cancelled dinner tonight with Naomi and her mother. A man avoiding spending time with his mother-in-law was normal behaviour opposed to suspicious, but we needed to know exactly what he was doing instead.

‘My mother will be so disappointed,’ Naomi was continuing to fret.

‘I haven’t spoken to my mother in two years. She hasn’t even met the twins,’ said Kate.

‘Oh Kate. I’m so sorry.’ Naomi’s eyes filled with tears.

‘No, it’s fine. I’m OK with it. She’s a total bitch.’

Which kind of drew an end to the conversation.

By the time I got up to leave, the women were swapping Instagram handles. They were officially becoming friends.

*

‘Hello, parents,’ Ms Yvonne greeted the crowd of us waiting from the top of the Portakabin steps. ‘We’ve had such fun with our artwork today. We’ve been learning how to paint like Picasso. Lots to take home for Mummy and Daddy.’

Great. More crap to leave in a pile in the corner of the kitchen for a few weeks before I guiltily dropped it in the bin once Gigi was in bed.

Frederick joined me. ‘More art? We’re running out of space.’ He looked so earnest in this concern I didn’t feel I could share with him my storage area for the more questionable pieces.

As we left the nursery courtyard I briefed Frederick on this afternoon’s funfair operation.

He pulled out his phone. ‘I’ll let Camilla know I won’t be back until later.’

Gigi and Florence were twenty feet behind us, plodding along slowly, each laden down with their art folders. I went to join them as Frederick spoke to Camilla.

I knew how to get them to speed up. ‘Girls, we’ve got great news for you. We’re going to the funfair now.’

‘Hurrah hurrah hurrah.’ The two of them jumped up and down. Gigi flung herself at me. ‘Best mama ever.’