‘No worries.’ Willow smiled sweetly. ‘I’ve got to set the face-paint stall up myself. I’ll come over with you.’

I didn’t know why I felt such a hot ridge of anxiety, high in my chest, as we walked across the square together, but I did.

The sun was peering weakly from the cloud as Zach and I arrived at the refreshment tent several shuttles to and from the square later. This time we were slopping the first vat of fruit punch between us. I was fairly sure Zach had helped himself to the punch once or twice while I wiped Nella’s kitchen island down, but I’d turned a blind eye.

‘Melissa!’

‘Hey!’ My friend raised a hand from the far side of the tent, busy smoothing red-and-white checked tablecloths onto the Cake Bake Great and Small stall. ‘Gotta get this done. I’ll catch you later, hon, I promise.’

‘Hope so.’ I didn’t wear rejection particularly well at the best of times, could imagine it easily in all sorts of scenarios, but it definitely wasn’t my imagination that I’d barely seen Melissa during the past month.

Far less than normal – and last night, she’d let me down again over doing my hair. She was meant to come to mine at 7.30 p.m. – but she’d texted just after 7, as I was putting Pringles in bowls and checking I had enough ice for the gin, and postponed.

She hadn’t rearranged this morning.

In fact, I hadn’t seen her properly for so long, I thought she looked thinner, clad in the unforgiving gym gear she lived in during the day, along with huge sunglasses – despite the marquee’s gloom.

‘Got some money, Mum?’

‘Yes, thanks,’ I said tartly, delving for my biscuit tins.

‘I just want to get a drink from the corner shop,’ Zach wheedled.

‘Hey, Ruby.’ Ceci materialised, in a full-on Billie Eilish playsuit, hair dyed a new pink and black, twisted into koala ears. ‘I’ve got cash if you want, Zach. C’mon.’

‘Don’t disappear totally though, OK?’ I said. ‘I need your help in a bit. I like your hair, Ces, by the way. Mega cool!’

‘Mega cool?’ Zach shook his head in disbelief. ‘Jeez, Mum!’

‘Thanks, Ruby.’ Cecilia looked both shy and pleased. ‘Melissa did it.’

‘It’s great.’ I tried not to feel bitter, my own hair now tucked into a Mrs Mop headscarf.

‘Hey!’ Willow finished arranging her face paints as the other two were leaving. ‘Coming back over?’

‘Just popping to the shop to get a drink.’ Zach was polite, almost formal.

‘Oh, don’t bother.’ Willow was airy. ‘There’s loads of stuff at home.’

‘It’s fine.’ Ceci pulled at Zach’s sleeve. ‘C’mon, cos I need to help Melissa after.’

‘Don’t waste your money, Zach,’ Willow said firmly. ‘There’s Pepsi Max, iced tea, whatever you want. Let’s go.’

Her tone reminded me of someone else. Her mother.

‘I don’t mind.’ Zach shrugged. ‘The shop’s long and your yard’s peng. C’mon, Ces.’

Cecilia looked like she might demur, but, under the laser of Willow’s gaze, in the end, all three went.