‘Everything we have is in excellent condition,’ she says, in a clipped tone. ‘So, look, if you’d like to borrow it, it’ll need to be picked up tomorrow, I’m afraid. I’d love to be more helpful but that’s the best I can do for you.’ It occurs to me now that perhaps she is testing me, to see how much I really want to borrow this thing. ‘D’you have my shop’s address?’ she asks.

‘Yes, I do. And I’m sure I can sort something …’ But I have no car, I realise. Could I do it by train and take Izzy with me? It really is the last thing I need to fit into my Sunday, and I can’t see how it’s doable. Plus, I’m supposed to be meeting four actors for coffee in the afternoon; all striking, confident women whom I know from way back when we worked together, and who seemed amused but intrigued by the idea of a little catwalk modelling. With only two weeks to go now, I decided I’d have to pull out all the stops, or we’d have a mountain of clothes and no one to model them. A headache starts to niggle at my temples. Izzy has deposited a packet of iced doughnuts in our trolley and is marching off in search of Parmesan.

‘I’ll leave that with you then,’ Tricia says briskly. ‘If you could let me know when it’s being picked up, I’ll be sure to open up the shop.’

Later still, 8.20 p.m.

Nick has texted, saying that Penny is ‘staying over on the love boat tonight’, meaning Hamish’s narrowboat. So telling her will have to wait. Perhaps it’s just as well, as Andy is here again, having asked if he could drop off a couple of books he’d bought for Izzy to help with her wetland habitats projects.

I seem to be seeing more of him than when we were together. Although his reasons for visits are valid, I’m not sure that we can continue in this way. But, for the moment, I’m putting on a cordial front for Izzy’s sake.

‘So, how’s it all going?’ he asks now, as we clear the table after Izzy’s baked courgettes. It twisted my heart a little to see how happy she was, all three of us eating together. Delighted with the books, she insisted he stayed to watch Izzy Cooks! and, naturally, to enjoy the resulting dish. ‘With the fashion show, I mean,’ he adds.

‘Pretty good,’ I reply. ‘I’m meeting the women who I hope will be our models tomorrow. At least, some of them. We need a span of all ages and it’s the older ones who seem to be trickier to find.’

‘Could you do it?’ he remarks, at which I laugh.

‘I don’t think so, do you?’

‘Why not?’