‘I know you did,’ he says. ‘But you had me and Jess and Luca watching you and we all thought you were so good! You can tell maman all about it when you get home.’ A pause, no reply. ‘Will you come out now, chérie? Will you unlock the door and then we can all go home?’

I think we’re going to be there forever until I finally hear the click of the lock and Léa’s standing there in front of us, her face blotchy from crying.

‘I will shake Céline’s hand,’ she says in a small but firm voice that makes me want to hug her. ‘And then I want to go home.’

As soon as we’re back at the house it’s as though the afternoon never happened. I get the paddling pool out for the kids and use the garden hose to fill it with water. They’re soon splashing about with abandon, as though the tantrum and the pants-wetting incident are ancient history.

‘Don’t judge her.’ Michel sits down opposite me on a garden chair.

‘Of course not, she’s eight.’

Michel makes a strange snorting noise. ‘Not Léa. Julia.’

I don’t know what to say. Of course I’m judging her. For never being around for her kids. For missing important events. But mainly for having so much that I want but can’t have, and not bloody appreciating it.

‘I don’t—’

He waves his hand to dismiss it, as though he doesn’t want to hear my protestations. ‘She loves her job, and she’s so good at it. Her manager is always telling her she’s indispensable.’

I remember being called into Peacock’s office at St Mary’s. Years of impeccable teaching, a marked improvement in exam results, an outstanding Ofsted inspection and yet I’m forced onto sabbatical, just like that, because of one tiny lapse in judgement during a difficult time. No one’s indispensable.

‘But…’ I start, and then I don’t quite know how to finish. ‘Léa clearly needs her mum around a bit more.’ I look at the pool, watch Léa splashing her brother as though she hadn’t a care in the world, and my hearts aches for my own mother, for her quick wit and fierce support and her hugs, her wonderful, enveloping hugs. I know I can’t ever get that back, but I wish with all my heart I had the chance to be the other side of the equation, to give a mother’s love to a child just as Mum gave hers to me. I can’t fathom how Julia can treat her good fortune with such disregard.

‘She will,’ he says. ‘This is temporary. In the autumn, Julia will have her weekends back. Léa will be fine.’