Janie continued to let him list the pros as he sold his argument. Schooling, property prices, they could even have a pool in their back garden. He didn’t need to remind her that Lymington had a place in her heart already, as she’d visited often as a child, her dad being a keen sailor.

Harry reminded her that London was not even a two-hour commute, and he could work up there a couple of days a week, maybe rent a flat. He could, by all accounts, carry on living the life he wanted during the week and then have the luxury of leaving it all behind on a Friday.

Janie, however, would have to make a choice, they both silently understood. But by then, in Janie’s head, it was already a done deal.

She pulled off the country lane and onto the small gravel car-park alongside Lucy’s silver BMW. The coffee shop sat on the outskirts of Brockenhurst, a little way from the school, but she and her three friends all agreed it served the best coffee around, and it was good to talk without the threat of being overheard by another school parent.

She could see all three of her friends gathered around the table in the window, and Janie hurried inside, banging the door wide open as she did. She didn’t know when she had got to the stage in her life that she hated being late because of the gossip she was missing, but at some point it had happened.

‘Just in time,’ Kristen called. ‘Lucy was about to tell us about the meeting with Mr Steele.’

‘Oh, don’t start,’ Janie said. ‘Let me grab a coffee first.’ She threw her bag onto the empty seat, grabbing her purse from it as she rushed to the counter. They were the only customers, as they often were, but there was no sign of anyone to serve them, and in her impatience Janie called out, ‘Hello?’

Eventually a young girl appeared and Janie asked for a black coffee.

‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ she said as she pulled her bag from the chair and sat down without offering an explanation. None of them cared why; they were all as busy as each other, running back and forth between school and the various activities they had during the day. Not one of her small group of mum-friends worked, yet each of them filled their days with so many things they barely had time to breathe. Moments like these were precious – catching up over a coffee and sharing their news, which invariably revolved around the school and their children, and who had fallen out with whom. ‘So tell us, what did he say?’