‘Want to come and see the real bunny now?’ Catriona holds out a hand, her pulse racing, the skin on her face suddenly hot while she waits for the child’s response.

‘What’s its name?’

‘Oh. Er, Mr Fluffy.’

‘That’s funny.’ The girl giggles and takes her hand. At once Catriona feels her shoulders relax. She turns and walks quickly, merging easily with the crush of other shoppers, the girl skipping along at her side, munching away on the rabbit cookie. Catriona pushes open the exit door and then makes her way back to her car.

‘Where’s the bunny?’ the girl asks.

‘We’re going to see it now. It’s just a short drive away, okay? How’s that bunny biscuit? Is it yummy?’

‘I like the pink bits.’

‘The icing?’

She nods.

Catriona opens the back door to the car. ‘Up you hop.’

‘Rabbits hop,’ the little girl says.

Catriona gives a little laugh. ‘Yes! Yes they do.’ Suddenly she knows everything is going to be okay. Coming here to the shopping mall was destined. The little girl is adorable.

She’s her little girl now. This was meant to be.

2

Now

I zip up my coat and shove my hands into my pockets. The afternoon is sunny and bright, but this part of the playground is always such a wind tunnel, spanning the length of the long, low red-brick building that houses all the classrooms. I stamp my feet to warm them. The school bell rang at least five minutes ago, but Jess and Charlie’s classes always seem to be the last ones out.

I jump at a tap on my shoulder. Thinking it must be a friend, I turn to find myself staring into a stranger’s eyes. An elegant blonde woman in her thirties, wearing a green Boden coat and a worried, apologetic expression. ‘Hi,’ I say. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Hello, sorry, I’m panicking a bit. It’s my children’s first day here. The bell went ages ago, but I can’t seem to see them. Just wondering if I’m waiting in the right spot?’

‘What year are they in?’ I ask.

‘Amy’s in year five and Kieran’s year two.’

‘Oh, same as my two. You’re fine. This is the right spot. We used to have to pick them up from different playgrounds, but it was such a mad dash that now they’ve combined pick-ups for the first and middle schools. Our year groups are always late coming out though. I’m Rachel, by the way. Rachel Farnborough.’ I stick out my hand and shake her leather-gloved one.

‘Oh, thanks. That’s a relief.’ The woman smiles. ‘I’m Kate Morris. Terrified newbie – in case you didn’t get that.’

‘Nice to meet you, Kate. And there’s nothing to be terrified about. We’re a pretty friendly bunch here at Wareham Park. So, what school were yours at before?’