‘All you kids are so sensitive these days!’ Rebekah prodded Willow. ‘My darling god-daughter, such emotional little flowers, aren’t you?’

‘Mrs March’ – Willow smiled politely at me – ‘I do like your coat.’

‘Oh thanks!’ Glad of the distraction, I’d forgotten I was wearing it. ‘I got it from the vintage stall. I like yours too.’

‘I think it used to be my mum’s.’ Willow nodded at mine.

I felt my face drop. ‘Oh.’

‘Zach, did you bring your swim shorts?’ She turned to him. ‘We can go in the hot tub later.’

Zach reddened. ‘No.’

‘It’s OK, you can borrow some of my dad’s.’

‘Ruby.’ Marcus appeared behind his daughter, mirroring her smile. ‘Don’t you look gorgeous in your fluff!’

‘Nice bit of fluff.’ It was out before I thought about it.

‘Oh, my days!’ Zach looked appalled. ‘Mum!’

‘Jokes!’ I said brightly, wondering why I suddenly felt like screaming.

Bill was at Marcus’s shoulder now, wanting to show him some new app.

‘Come on, Zach.’ Willow’s smile hadn’t faltered. Another girl hovered behind her: Lola Vermaak, the blogger’s daughter, with a mouthful of train-track braces. ‘Let’s go.’

‘I’ll wait for Ces, if you don’t mind.’ Zach didn’t meet Willow’s gaze, which didn’t surprise me, and she bit her lip and then smiled.

‘It’s fine, Zach.’ Willow tugged his sleeve. ‘She’ll find us.’

‘Text her?’ Melissa suggested, positively perky – and rather glassy, now I looked again. ‘She might have popped home for her coat.’

‘I’ve run out of data.’

‘I’ll message her for you.’ Melissa produced her phone. She was wearing a lot of make-up for someone who rarely did, I thought absently. ‘Tell her to meet you – at the wheel?’

‘OK,’ Zach capitulated, giving me his bag of Game Boy bits and ambling off behind Willow and Lola.

The clutch of love I felt as I watched him go almost took my breath away. For all his sometime teenage sulkiness, he was the most amiable boy the majority of time; inherently kind, for all his moaning, and good company, when he chose to be.

My only company, much of the time these days.

Earlier he’d done the rounds of the bar tent selling raffle tickets without complaint. Cecilia was meant to have done the food stalls outside separately, but she’d balked, remaining clamped to Zach’s side. Given what had been going on at home for her, I don’t think anyone would have pushed it.

But she’d been mute again, less cheerful than this morning, and certainly not sparkling, like Willow was now. Zach, though, had sold loads of tickets, switching his own brand of matey charm on for the punters.

He was never chippy, the way his own father had been sometimes.

‘You were going to ask me something?’ Rebekah said gaily. ‘Ruthie?’

Melissa shook her head at me, mouthing Don’t bother.

‘It’s Ruby,’ I sighed. ‘And It’s fine.’

‘Oh, don’t you look smart!’ Rebekah looked down as Beau approached with a plate of canapés, still dressed in his mask. ‘Are you a cowboy?’