My stomach tightens and I take a deep breath to calm myself. ‘Look, Saffron, I know she can be difficult, but she wouldn’t do anything as awful as that.’

‘Then who the hell was it?’ you ask.

103

Saffron

I look across the polished wood table. Across the wine glasses, the half-empty bottle of Rioja. The scented candle. Listening to my husband denying the possibility that you could cause trouble with the Social Care Services Department. I am opened-mouthed, full of wonder at his trust in you. His gullible innocence.

And I am back, standing on our landing, telling you that Sonia Watson is downstairs, asking to talk to you. You are wearing your silk housecoat, elegant hair sleek and shiny, pulled back from your face.

‘Why does she want to see me?’ you ask. ‘I thought it would be you she was after.’

Why did you think that? It was you wasn’t it, Caprice? You reported us. I can’t prove it. But I know.

Every day, you tell me you hate me. With the twist of your head. The twitch of your mouth. And eyes that turn to stone whenever they meet mine. I hate you back, Caprice. You’ll have to go. Soon.

104

Caprice

It’s a sunny March day. Cold, but bright. I’m sitting in the garden, beneath the weeping willow tree, trying to calm down. Breathe. Breathe. But the audacity of that frumpy woman, Sonia Watson, obsesses me. She doesn’t know how to dress. She doesn’t know how to think.

The only adult in this house the children are wary of is you.

I clench my fist and bang it on my teak bench. How dare she speak to me like that? I’m the backbone of this family. I do so much to help. Covering on Hayley’s day off. Babysitting whenever they all go out. Trying to introduce the children to good manners. Sonia Watson is irresponsible. Bad at her job. Social workers are very badly paid. No wonder the profession attracts people of such poor quality. No wonder they make so many mistakes. All you ever read about them in the papers is their catalogue of catastrophes. Well congratulations to Sonia Watson – she really triumphed yesterday. Standing in front of me wearing washable polyester telling me to adapt my behaviour. Become less confrontational.

Someone needs to be confrontational in this family. Someone needs to make sure the children understand boundaries. Saffron, you are too soft with them. To make up for the time you don’t spend with them, you let them do whatever they want when you are with them. They watch unsuitable films and cartoons. Play bloodthirsty games on the Xbox. You ply them with unsuitable vegan food. Don’t you know that our bodies were designed to eat meat and dairy? They will become anaemic because of you. The social worker is a real idiot not to have caught you out.