As she drove, Esther made calculations – the time Lily set off, the time she had set off, the likely, law-abiding progress of her daughter versus her own reckless breakneck speed. Except that Esther felt as though she had never in her life driven with greater care. Between overtaking lumbering farm vehicles, speed-camera signs and the occasional roundabout, she flew smoothly onwards, gripping the steering wheel with ferocious intent, focussed solely on catching up with Matteo’s little blue Fiat. Something had gone wrong, and she wasn’t sure what. All she knew was that it had to be her fault, rabbiting on probably, grilling instead of enquiring, making Lily feel shut out, or pissed off; blowing the chance to which she had been so looking forward, of having her daughter to herself for once. Lily was so socially adept, that was the trouble – so good at appearing interested and asking the right questions. What Esther had overlooked – what not seeing enough of her had allowed her to forget – was how Lily did not volunteer things; how it took the greatest care and gentleness to tease them out.

Precious time had been lost settling the bill for the tea that Lily hadn’t wanted. The nice young man at Reception had got confused, trying to add the bill to the one already pre-paid, affording Esther a glimpse of the ridiculously huge amount the birthday treat had cost.

Motherhood was a lot like telepathy, she reflected darkly, rocketing past scrubby harvested fields, fresh still from the recent heavy rain and gleaming gold in the early evening September sun. Especially with a child who had always relished her own self-sufficiency, who did not ask for help.

Esther swerved to dodge a pheasant pecking at something on the grass verge, her concentration leapfrogging back into a state of panic. So, what was wrong now? Lily’s ham-fisted, contradicting lies – that Matteo needed the car and then that he was cooking dinner – had been the trigger for the decision to give chase. It wasn’t like Lily to be so clumsy.

The familiar longing to talk to Viv pulsed. But not even Esther’s voice message on the night after her garden traumas had prompted a call back. Instead, a brief text arrived the following morning, offering sympathy and a startled face emoji, but then pulling out of the 31 October dinner on the grounds that Brian had booked a surprise city-break to Prague. A wedding anniversary treat, so she was sure Esther would understand. Esther did understand, but that hadn’t stopped her feeling hurt. Clinging to the notion that it was a good date for some sort of attempt at sociability, she had tried Shona and Carole, but they couldn’t make it either. That left Sue and Dimitri, her new stalwarts, who had sweetly said yes, a kindness that still hadn’t entirely dispelled the disturbing sense that leaving Lucas had somehow morphed into losing her oldest friends.