Back in the present, damp and dishevelled from the rain, I head into the kitchen and give Kate what I hope is a genuine smile. ‘Can I make you a cuppa?’

‘Tea would be lovely.’

‘Have a seat.’ I gesture to the white Ikea stools lined up against the breakfast bar. Our kitchen is regrettably too small for a table.

Kate perches her neat bottom on one of the stools and plops her handbag on the counter next to her. ‘The kids have been so excited about today. They could barely sleep – although don’t tell Amy I said that. She’d be mortified. They’ve been missing their friends, so it’ll be nice to make new ones.’

‘My two were the same last night. It’s great how they’ve hit it off.’ As I bustle about the kitchen making tea, I surreptitiously examine Kate Morris’s features and attributes. ‘I wish my hair stayed as straight as yours in the rain. Mine always turns to frizz.’ I realise that her blonde hair is exactly like Amy and Kieran’s, whereas Bella’s hair is dark, lustrous and wavy.

Kate pulls a lock of her hair out from her head, wrinkling her nose. ‘Isn’t it funny how you always want what you haven’t got. My hair is boringly straight, whereas yours has so much body. I’d kill for a bit of a wave in mine.’

I’m pretty sure she’s just being polite. ‘How do you take your tea?’

‘A dash of milk, no sugar please.’

‘So, does Bella take after her dad?’

‘Hmm?’

‘You know, with her dark hair?’

‘Oh, you know what – no. We’ve all got blonde hair and blue eyes, but she’s our little changeling. Although’ – Kate pats her hair – ‘my natural hair colour is more grey-brown these days.’

‘So you used to be naturally blonde?’

‘When I was a kid. But back to your question – Bella gets her colouring from Shaun’s mum.’

‘Shaun’s your husband?’

‘Yes. He’s naturally fair-haired, but his mum is part Spanish. It’s funny how the genes get distributed, isn’t it?’

I nod, not trusting myself to speak for a moment. Trying instead to absorb everything she’s telling me. Wondering how she can lie so easily – if indeed she is lying. I pick up our mugs of tea. ‘Shall we go into the lounge? Be a love and grab that biscuit tin, would you?’

Kate does as I ask and follows me next door to the lounge.

‘Wow, it’s beautiful in here.’