I was in a thoroughly bad mood by then, after the scary texts followed by a difficult conversation with Rebekah, always drinking too much now her husband was so often in the Caribbean. She’d refused to leave, the last thing I needed after a rubbish party, which might have brought in lots of money (I prayed) but had done nothing to raise my status in this community.

What was I hoping for really? Recognition? New friends? Gratitude from my husband? I’d got none of the above, not really.

In fact, while I tried to get to sleep, Marcus had stayed in the kitchen, drinking port with some dads from St Bede’s, including Jan Vermaak’s dreadful lawyer boor of a husband; he’d lost track of time.

I understood that Cecilia and Melissa had left about 1 a.m., at which point Willow had begged Marcus to let the remaining kids stay over. Pretty drunk himself, and always so desperate to get Willow’s affection, it was obviously easier to acquiesce. I’m surprised he’d actually managed to call the parents of those who were left – including Ruby.

Meanwhile, the remaining teens, it transpired, had gone back downstairs, were watching some terrible art-house porn that Marcus subscribed to. God, I felt humiliated just knowing they knew.

I felt humiliated about so much of this.

But I was out cold when Marcus had put a load of sleeping bags and duvets down in the cinema room and lain down on the sofa in the drawing room, not wanting to wake me.

Apparently, though, Willow couldn’t sleep; it was too hot, too noisy with all the other teens.

Around 4 a.m., she said she’d moved up to her own room.

Zach had followed her at some point, Willow told me in the morning; got into bed with her. No one else had seen them. I then revealed I’d had to throw Zach and Cecilia out of my bedroom, and that’s when – tears pouring down her face – the rest of the story came out. That she’d seen Zach groping Ceci before I’d come upstairs. I felt so terrible about this; it was the thing that really haunted me. That when that boy had climbed into my daughter’s bed, I was out for the count, as was her dad. We should have been more – present. Protecting her…

What on earth did Zach think he was doing? There was no way Willow could have invited it: she was already thoroughly thrown by the fact, as Lola told Jan, that he’d been kissing that girl Cecilia. Of course, I asked why she hadn’t told him to go, and Willow, her eyes huge, told me she was too scared even to get out of the bed after he got in.

Anyway. Around 8 a.m., before I got up, the March boy must have woken and left for home. And then I woke up – in all senses.

I’d trusted that boy to help my daughter at school – but I didn’t even know him really. Or his own father, already dead when I met Ruby, and, well, of course, I’m totally not racist or anything, but – you know.