Violet followed Andrea around the kitchen as she opened cupboard doors and the fridge, looking for something a child would like. Caviar, truffle, quail eggs. Four bottles of champagne. Blue cheese. Smoked salmon.

The woman had expensive taste. She also had expensive habits. In Andrea’s opinion, Heather was a high-functioning drug addict. Although Heather probably wouldn’t consider herself an addict at all. Mainly because she wasn’t broke and she didn’t have track marks, and she took her drugs with famous rich people at exclusive parties. The problem was, she didn’t always wait for a babysitter to show up before she left Violet to head out to one of her parties. Andrea had tried alerting social services to Heather’s neglect, but when they turned up to check on things, she’d presented herself as the perfect parent.

Eventually, Andrea found crackers, cheddar cheese and some fruit. She tried to chat animatedly with Violet while she sliced the cheese, cut up the fruit and placed the snack on a plate. She asked her about school and homework and friends. Andrea used to see a nanny coming and going from Heather’s apartment, but it seemed she had quit abruptly and never been replaced. From the hints Violet gave her, Andrea gathered the nanny’s sudden departure had something to do with Heather’s wild lifestyle and the different men she frequently brought home.

Andrea kept hoping that maybe Violet’s school would pick up on the home-life issues and register their concerns with social services, so that it wasn’t just coming from the neighbour down the hall. But somehow, Heather always sent Violet to school in pristine condition. It helped that she had a driver who took Violet door to door, so she never missed a day or turned up late. Not to mention Violet herself took great care in completing her homework, often asking for Andrea’s help to make sure she had it done in time.

Andrea had only spotted the driver once or twice, but she got the feeling he cared about Violet too. She’d noticed him fixing Violet’s plait for her as he walked her down to the car. He wasn’t what she would have imagined of a chauffeur either. He was casually dressed and he seemed to have this relaxed, cool air about him. He had a shaved head, neatly edged stubble and kind eyes.

Andrea put the plate down in front of Violet and sat next to her, trying not to watch her too intently while she ate. Violet had always been tiny and Andrea suspected that was just her build, but it was still nice to see her eat something. Her arms were quite thin.

Andrea certainly couldn’t ever remember her own mother making her a snack after school, or watching her eat, or caring about whether or not she was satisfied. She was lucky if her mum made her any meals at all.