‘You can’t wear that yet!’ I say as Léa skips into the living room in the pale pink dress I helped her pick out on our shopping trip yesterday, along with a pair of sparkly sandals I would have coveted when I was a kid.

‘But I really want to!’

‘You’re going to play in the rope park, it’ll get dirty. Save it for the party later, okay little one?’

‘I’m not little. I’m going to be eight. Huit ans.’

‘You’re right. That is extremely grown up.’

‘Léa! Change ta robe, maintenant!’ Julia comes into the living room in a waft of perfume. She’s wearing a pair of khaki trousers and a white V-necked T-shirt. They’re nothing special but still manage to make her look chic. I remember seeing that T-shirt in her wardrobe. Little does she know. The thought takes me by surprise, and it pleases me.

‘Oh mon Dieu, there’s still so much to do,’ Julia says. Léa flounces away, her long glossy mane swinging behind her. ‘I haven’t put up any decorations for the party. And there are the gifts to wrap. Maria is bringing most of the food, but I wanted to bake a cake and I haven’t had time. What sort of a mother am I?’ She gives brief laugh, perhaps expecting a protestation from me, but I don’t say anything. If Léa were my daughter I’d have made time to make her a cake. And then something occurs to me.

‘Listen,’ I say. ‘I don’t need to go to the rope park with you all. Why don’t I stay here and decorate the house? I can wrap the presents if you show me where they are. Sort out the living room for the party. Maybe I can even rustle up a cake. I mean I’m sure it wouldn’t be as good as yours but… well, I can try.’

Julia lets out a long breath. ‘Really? Jess, that would be super. Are you sure? I know Léa wants you to come with us.’

‘It’s fine. It’s more important that you and Michel are there with her.’

‘Merci, thank you, really. That’s a huge help.’ She puts her hand on my shoulder briefly and I see her gratitude and something else – relief? I smile back, shrug, as though it’s nothing.