‘It’s hard to keep tabs on teens though, isn’t it? Ceci’s the same. God, I can’t get through an hour these days without caffeine.’ Melissa downed her second cup. ‘I’m so exhausted at the moment, I’d mainline it if I could.’

‘I don’t think you know true exhaustion till you have your own children. It’s on another level, isn’t it, Ruby? The sleepless nights!’

I sneaked a glance at Melissa, candlelight playing across her face, but she hadn’t reacted, though she was a little drunk, perhaps, I thought.

‘Course, I have to say, my night nanny did help a bit,’ Nella added.

A bit? Jonny had been on nights himself when Ali was born, our unplanned baby, and I’d had to stop studying social work; too hard during the torture of being woken by a colicky baby when I’d only just fallen asleep, over and over again, every night for weeks and months, until we were at each other’s throats. And then the miracle of sleep at eight months, the two of us smiling in disbelief over the cot, creeping to the door to collapse on the sofa, too tired to do anything but slump together, sleeping while we could.

I swallowed the remnants of a dark, bitter chocolate.

‘Good to get the party ball rolling.’ Nella’s gratitude seemed profuse. ‘And just knowing you guys helps Willow. Though she’s totally excited— Oh!’ Nella gave a little scream, her hands fluttering up to her face. ‘Shoo!’

As one, we turned.

A fox stood in the shadows of the towering blue agapanthus.

‘It’s only a fox, darling.’ Marcus put a hand on Nella’s arm. ‘It’s fine.’

Protective, I thought, and my heart twisted.

‘Bold as brass.’ Warily, Melissa tracked the animal. ‘Can’t trust ’em.’

But I liked foxes – their calm stare, vibrant fur and triangular, quizzical faces.

‘God, I loathe them. Wretched, sneaky creatures.’ Nella shuddered.

The irony, I thought, was the animal looked a bit like her.

‘It’s just surviving,’ I offered helpfully. ‘Not hurting anyone.’

‘If Beau was here, he’d chase him off. Loves to fight on my behalf, little soldier.’

I watched, far drunker than I’d intended to be, as the fox blinked once, up at the house. I turned to follow its gaze.

There was some kind of kerfuffle in the top open window, I realised. There were raised voices again and, looking up, I thought I saw a boy, holding – something.

What was that? I squinted into the darkness.

A huge archery bow: trained directly into the garden.

‘Oh wow!’ My gasp was audible, even to myself.

‘What?’ Marcus looked up sharply. ‘Beau!’ He gestured urgently at the boy to go back in. ‘It’s OK, really, it’s just for his archery. Not now, Beau, for goodness’ sake.’ He raised his voice. ‘Beau, go back inside! Birgitte!’

Someone was behind Beau now, with their hands on his arms and he disappeared, before he could shoot an arrow.

When I looked back, the fox was, to my relief, flickering safely into the bushes.