Her forehead wrinkled into a soft frown, but she smiled at Minnie as she reached up to kiss her son on the cheek. Her voice was calm and gentle. Minnie felt a pang of envy for a mother like this, a mother who greeted you with a kiss and talked in hushed, honeyed tones.

‘This is Minnie,’ said Quinn, ‘I told you about her; the girl who would have been Quinn.’ Quinn took both his mother’s hands in his and gently moved them up and down, as though physically channelling information to her. ‘Minnie, this is my mother Tara.’

Tara turned to look at her, taking one of her hands back from her son and reaching out a hand to touch Minnie as though wanting to test her physicality. Tara’s eyes grew wide as she took Minnie in, and Minnie squirmed under her gaze, embarrassed by such focused attention.

‘Hi,’ she said, with a brisk wave of her hand. ‘I brought you a pie.’

She thrust the pie box towards Tara.

‘Minnie? Minnie … ’ Tara was still staring at her.

She didn’t look as though she was going to take the pie box, so Minnie put it down on a side table.

‘I don’t know if you like pies, Quinn said you would.’

‘Minnie, goodness, aren’t you pretty? I always longed for curly hair,’ said Tara. Minnie self-consciously pulled one of her curls straight. ‘I’m so pleased you’ve come. When Quinn told me he’d met you, what you’d said about your birth … I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I’ve thought of your mother so often. I tried to find her after we left hospital, she helped me so much.’

‘I know,’ said Minnie, ‘she told me. She also said you stole her name idea.’ Minnie laughed awkwardly and gave a little shrug. She didn’t want Tara to think she was angry about it. Who could be angry with a woman like this? It would be like being angry at a kitten.

‘No, no,’ Tara’s face fell, ‘that’s not what happened. Quinn, didn’t you tell her how it was?’

Tara looked distressed all of a sudden. She felt behind her for the arm of the sofa, sinking down into it. Quinn sat down beside her and held one of her hands between the palms of his.

‘Don’t get upset, Mum,’ he said softly. ‘I did explain, but I thought you could tell her yourself.’

Quinn went to make a pot of Earl Grey tea and Minnie took a seat on the sofa next to Tara. She looked so frail and small against the giant white cushions, as though she might sink into the sofa’s folds and never be able to get out again. Minnie sat quietly, letting Tara talk.