‘Actually, Pat,’ I said, ‘can I just use the loo quickly? I came straight from the shops, and I’m busting.’

‘Of course. You’d better use the upstairs though.’ She bustled back towards the kitchen as a child somewhere set up a thin, querulous wail. ‘Binny’s in the downstairs, changing Heinrich. She’s going to do a hand henna stall. Coming, poppet. I’ll put the kettle on.’

‘Ta.’ I hurried up the stairs, opening the first door I came to.

A toddlers’ bedroom, apparently, complete with small beds, terrible papier-mâché flowers and a faded Noah’s Ark display on the windowsill.

I hastily closed the door and knocked lightly at another. The bathroom, all macramé plant holders and vegan shampoo, the shower curtain covered in faded tropical fish and mildew.

Quickly I checked down the stairs: an empty hallway.

I went past the bathroom and knocked again on the next door.

I heard a soft voice from the other side and turned the handle, just as the doorbell rang downstairs. Nella, no doubt.

‘Hello,’ I said quietly, stepping inside the room and closing the door behind me. ‘What happened to you last night?’

Ruby

SUNDAY 27 AUGUST

The lake – no, it wasn’t a lake, even if I was being charitable – it was a… what? A pond? No, bigger than a pond. A sort of… pool.

Yes. The large pool between the trees was muddy rather than blue, less lagoon and more swamp. King Arthur had never been handed a magic sword here at dawn, I was pretty sure of that, despite Nella waxing lyrical about unearthly maidens in the mist.

No, the best this Sussex pool looked like it might offer was a rusty shopping trolley, an ancient and vicious pike, and some frogspawn in the spring, if they were lucky.

Above the trees, the sky glowered, promising nothing but more warm rain, and I was fast realising the hours I’d spent yesterday trailing Primark in search of a glamourous but also cheap beach-wrap type affair to hide all my sins had been a waste. I’d be quite safe in shorts and wellies.

Last week, over coffee at Melissa’s, I’d told her about the invitation to go camping. ‘Be a nice break for you guys,’ she’d said. ‘You should definitely go.’

‘I’ve said yes because I ran out of excuses, but I don’t get what she wants from me. We have literally nothing in common.’

‘Apart from finding her husband hot?’

‘Melissa!’ I was outraged. ‘I absolutely do not.’

‘If you say so,’ she’d said, grinning. ‘Well, she wants Zach to look after this Willow kid, no? At school in September.’

‘But why quite so desperate? I don’t get it. Marcus was going to tell me something about her – but I never found out what.’

‘She’s probably just scared, hon. Nella. I get the idea she thinks state schools are terrifying – all stab vests and crack dens. Go, have a laugh. I’m sure they’ll provide amazing food and drink again.’