And yet, Catriona knows what it’s like to snatch a few minutes for yourself – that blissful illusion of freedom. When you’re out of the house talking to another grown-up person, let loose in the real world away from cleaning, cooking, toilet-training. Those moments when you remember who you were before becoming a mother. How luxurious it feels. How freeing. She shakes her head. Stupid woman. She’s probably been looking forward to this morning. Wishing for it. Meeting up with her friend. Hoping the babies stay asleep and her daughter remains occupied in the play area. But it just goes to show… you should be careful what you wish for.

The little girl is now exploring the rest of the play area – throwing the balls around the ball pit and crawling under the plastic tubes. Catriona’s heart is lodged in her gullet as she lurches to her feet, scraping the chair back too loudly. She glances back at the women, but they haven’t noticed her. Their heads are together as they chatter away. Laughing, and then serious again. The rise and fall of their voices merging with the mall sounds. Catriona makes her way around to the far side of the play area, the side nearest to the exit. She pulls up the hood of her sweatshirt, keeping her face angled low.

A voice in the background of her brain is yelling at her to stop this. To go back home and deal with it all. But a louder voice screams that this is the only way to stem the tidal wave of pain that’s threatening to drown her. It has to be fate that this beautiful little child is here right now. A dark-haired girl. A daughter.

‘Hello,’ she says softly to the child as she emerges from beneath one of the colourful tubes.

The girl smiles shyly.

‘Do you like bunny rabbits?’ Catriona holds out the biscuit and makes it do a funny little dance.

The girl giggles. A sound that makes Catriona want to sink to the ground and sob. Instead, she arranges her face into the warmest, most inviting smile she can create. ‘Would you like this one? Look – it’s got pink ears.’

The girl looks around, as though seeking approval from her mother. But the women are both hidden from view and neither of them are paying attention to the toddler.

‘Your mum said it was fine. She said you could come and see a real bunny rabbit. Would that be fun? You can stroke it and hold it, if you like.’

‘I got a toy bunny.’

‘Have you? Well mine is real – it’s white and fluffy and hops around the room. Here, have this biscuit bunny first, if you like.’ Catriona hands her the cookie.

The girl takes it, looks it up and down, then nibbles a corner.

‘Is it good?’

She nods twice and takes a bigger bite.