‘It’s important that you wash your hair at least twice every week,’ Alice said, ‘otherwise you’ll end up with hair like wire wool and you don’t want that, do you?’

Marnie agreed that she didn’t.

‘You can borrow my stuff anytime you like,’ said Alice. ‘And tomorrow I’m going to go into town and buy you your own shampoo and conditioner. OK?’

Marnie gave the smallest nod. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve all this kindness. It was overwhelming and it was lovely.

‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’ Alice asked.

Marnie did actually have a half-brother, Justus, but he was from her dad’s old life, when John Morahan had been in the army, in Germany. She had never met Justus, only ever seen the small picture of the boy with his mother that John kept folded in his wallet. The picture used to make Denise cross. All this was too complicated to explain so she shook her head.

‘Hmm,’ said Alice. She snipped at a matted clump of hair with her nail scissors. The noise was crunchy right by Marnie’s ear. Alice dropped the clump into the saucer she was using as a bin.

‘Have you got any?’ Marnie asked.

Snip, snip, snip as Alice cut away the tail ends of the knot.

‘I’ve got one brother,’ she said, her voice warm and sweet behind Marnie, ‘but we’re not actually related. We’re adopted. Do you know what that means?’

Marnie had read Ballet Shoes.

‘Yes.’

Alice fell quiet for a moment or two, combing Marnie’s hair with her fingers.

Then she said: ‘You know, in a way you’re luckier than me. Because even though your mum’s dead and that’s really tough on you, but… how old are you?’

‘Ten.’

‘And how old were you when she died?’

‘Nine.’

‘Well there, see, at least you had nine years with your mum.’

A ladybird landed on Marnie’s arm.

‘How long did you have with yours?’ she asked Alice.

‘I don’t know. I was too small to remember.’

Now Marnie’s skin was so clean, she could see that it was honey-coloured, covered with little blonde hairs. She turned her arm as the ladybird crept over it, over the delicate blue veins on the inside of her wrist. The ladybird extended the covers to its wings, then took off.

‘Fly away home,’ Marnie said quietly.

Alice sat back on her heels and sighed. ‘Your hair looks lovely now. Come and have a look in the mirror.’

She’d stood up and held out her hand for Marnie to take, and Marnie took it. Alice helped her up and they went into the caravan. There was a mirror on the back of the door. Marnie looked at herself. Alice’s face was behind hers.