‘I am coping fine. I haven’t asked you for help. If I did need help, I would have asked, so why don’t you back off? Or is it that you want me to be mad? Would that make things easier for you?’

‘I’m sorry, Allie. I didn’t mean to lose my temper.’ Naomi lets out a long sigh. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t want to fall out with you, OK? If you want me to keep my distance, then I will.’

I don’t know what I want. Exhaustion makes my head feel muddled and confused, and while I think Naomi is keeping things from me, there is that other part of me that still instinctively wants to go to her first. I want to tell her what happened last night as I slept, the feeling of the hand in my hair and on my chest, but I no longer know if I can trust her.

‘It’s not that,’ I say eventually. ‘There are things … I don’t want to talk about it, anymore, OK? Rav and I are fine. We always have been, and he would tell me if he was that concerned. There is nothing to worry about – I’ve told Rav I won’t look into the house anymore. Just believe me when I say I’m OK; that’s what a real friend would do.’ And I hang up.

Sliding my phone back into the pocket of my skirt, I see Tara on the other side of the road, one hand raised to get my attention. She waits a moment at the crossing, then almost jogs over towards me and I wonder for a moment if she is going to ask me about the blanket she left at the house. I don’t know how I’ll respond if she does.

‘Hey.’ She is a little out of breath from the short jog. ‘I thought I must have missed you this morning. My turn to be late.’ She laughs, and I try to smile, her words a jab against my skin. I should have realized that the other mothers would have known that I wasn’t there to collect Mina yesterday. I feel my cheeks start to burn with embarrassment. ‘Are you coming for coffee this morning? I won’t be staying too long as Rufus is still a little under the weather and I promise I won’t let Miranda start talking about anything weird.’

Right on cue, the baby starts to fuss in the pram, giving me the perfect out.

‘Sorry’ – I pull a face – ‘not this morning. I’ve been up all night with this one.’ Not strictly true – the baby slept for a glorious three-hour stretch, while I lay wide awake, unblinking, next to Rav, not wanting to sleep or to dream, imagining I could still feel the pressure of a hand on my chest.