Only Nella would have had a blow-dry specially for camp night, I noted drily, pulling my beanie on. My own stylist being temporarily ensconced in a Berlin circus school, unfortunately a hat was my best bet.

‘Ish, be an angel and open another bottle of red.’ Nella pointed at the crate. ‘Then we can start.’

I bet she was head girl, I thought, watching Ish comply politely.

‘Chocolate brownies soon.’ R. Hobbit-hands pinged forward with her Tupperware. ‘How about a home-made Rocky Road in the meantime?’

‘After the sing-song, we can play charades.’ Nella declined a cake. ‘It’s such a scream when you’ve had a drink!’

‘Personally I’d rather eat my own arm,’ Melissa muttered to me, ‘than act Titanic out in front of this lot.’

‘I don’t know,’ I murmured back, clutching my cardigan tighter against the chill. ‘You’d make a rather fetching Leonardo to Nella’s Kate Winslet.’

As darkness fell, so did the temperature. The good leggings in the bottom of my hastily packed bag had turned out to be my old pyjama bottoms with the enormous hole in the crotch, grabbed at 6.30 a.m. and shoved in with my toothbrush, before a final shift at the shop.

Consequently, I was both freezing and itchy, the midges having made short work of my thighs, still bared in shorts.

Across the fire from me sat Willow – pretty, fresh face framed by a pastel pink hood, whittling a stick for her brother, who was still off collecting insects for a summer project.

On one side of Willow, Ceci and Zach sat together, having been forced back from the bank of the lake, where they’d spent hours giggling hysterically over a fishing rod they had no idea how to use.

‘Bonding’ with Willow was the whole reason we were here, I’d reminded Zach sotto voce as the burgers – made of venison, to my slight horror – were plopped onto the barbecue, but I couldn’t say I held out much hope for it right now. I’d already had to make ferocious eyes at him a few times as he and Ceci joked about something secret, but he’d managed to largely ignore me. They’d all briefly swung on the tree swing earlier, but it had seemed a bit quiet and desultory.

And Willow seemed surprisingly shy for someone so self-possessed.

Rebekah murmured something to Nella as Marcus played a few chords of ‘Hard Day’s Night’ on the guitar he’d brought out, lovingly stroking the instrument’s neck in that rather smug way middle-aged men seemed to enjoy.

Nella put her hand out to Willow. ‘Sweetie, go have an adventure. And you could gather some more firewood too?’

‘Yeah, great,’ Marcus agreed, now assiduously tuning the guitar. ‘Don’t want the fire to die, kids, do we?’

‘We’re not kids,’ Willow informed her father calmly. ‘It’s pejorative.’

‘So sorry, m’lady.’ Marcus bobbed his head at her. ‘You young people. Zach, you look like you could manage a good stack of wood.’

‘I don’t mind.’ Zach nodded shyly, finishing his third burger.