But how could it ever have been possible, as individuals, to stand outside the privilege of some of us and find it soothing to the whole?

We were too different; too divided by money, race and class; by ambition and expectation of what life might or could be.

We were all mothers of some description, and yet, even that wasn’t enough to bind us in any way.

The street party had earned £14,567 for the community: deemed good enough, if maybe not the mighty peak Queen Bee Nella had aimed for.

But then the big-wigs of Northgate Square began to flex their financial muscles with anonymous donations – none of which were very anonymous, of course, as they carefully matched, or superseded, one another. The total soared, though Bill’s £20K had to be returned to the authorities, much to Nella’s irritation.

Personally, I had nothing to say to Nella these days. She had other things on her mind by then anyway, I imagined. There were no apologies from the Jacksons, just a bunch of over-priced lilies for Zach, received with as much excitement by a teenage boy as you might imagine.

As for me, I just wondered if Nella was underscoring events by not using my own shop.

I saw Marcus just once more, soon after his big Newsnight interview.

‘Ruby!’ Marcus waved as I turned into Westbourne Grove, struggling with a bucket of roses, and I remembered how conveniently he’d bumped into me that late summer afternoon, with the motive of reaching Zach.

‘Lovely to see you.’ He began that twinkle, but I dropped the bucket and faced him straight on, water slopping over my toes as usual.

‘Are you getting help for Willow?’

‘What?’ Immediately, he looked nervous. ‘Yes. No. I mean—’

‘I’d love to talk to her sometime,’ I said. ‘Not in an angry way, I mean, but I think she could use an ear. She can’t be very happy, don’t you think?’

‘How magnanimous of you, Ruby,’ Marcus said flatly. ‘But Willow’s fine, thank you.’ His shiny black watch buzzed, a new one. ‘Just a tick—’

He was actually reading texts while I stood there, waiting.

‘I’m not being funny, Marcus,’ I interrupted. ‘I’d be happy to talk to the poor lass, after all that drama. Don’t you think there must be a—’

‘She’s not around, thanks. She’s just started at a new boarding school, in Edinburgh, and loving it.’ But there was no warmth at all in his strange-coloured eyes as he lowered his voice. ‘So why don’t you just attend to your own boy, Ruby. I’m sure he can learn a lot from you. And I’ll attend to my own kids, thank you.’

‘Did she mean for the gun to go off, when she took it from her brother in the woods that night?’ I said boldly, feeling the nerves quiver up my spine. ‘Was she trying to shoot you, Marcus?’

‘God, no. It was a terrible mistake,’ he said smoothly. ‘She was trying to help her brother out. He sleepwalks often.’