‘The others are Bryce and Donald and Abby,’ Wendy told her. ‘Bryce is nine. Donald’s seven. Abby’s four. There’s Bessy as well, but she’s only eight months old so she doesn’t talk yet, and she’s away with Dad. She’s actually Elizabeth, but she’s too cute to be an Elizabeth.’

Bessy. The baby. One true thing.

‘Where’s your dad?’

‘He had to take Bessy to the doctor. We think she’s got chicken pox. She hasn’t got any spots yet, but she’s grizzling so much she must be sick. Dad didn’t get any sleep last night. When you rang he looked like he might cry.’

‘Oh,’ Shanni said. Even more faintly. She looked over to where the other three children were swinging on the opened gate. ‘Have you all had chicken pox?’

‘Oh yes,’ Wendy said blithely. ‘I had it first and then Donald and Abby and Bryce got it all together. Dad said he was going round the twist, but I helped.’

‘I’m sure you did.’

‘We didn’t want Bessy to catch it, but she did anyway. Dad’s buggered.’ She blinked. ‘Whoops, I’m not supposed to say that. Dad says. But when you rang and said you were coming Dad said, “Thank God, I’m so buggered I’ll pay half my kingdom for decent help.” And then he looked at all of us and said he’d pay all his kingdom.’

A lesser woman would turn around right now, Shanni thought. A lesser woman would say whoops, sorry, there’s been a dreadful mistake, and go find a nice homeless shelter rather than face this.

‘We shouldn’t be here by ourselves,’ Wendy admitted, her voice faltering just a little. ‘But the station wagon’s got a flat tyre, and when Dad pulled out the spare it was flat, too. Mum must have had a flat tyre and not told Dad…She swallowed. ‘Before… before she died. Anyway, Dad’s car’s only a two-seater, and he really needed to take Bessy to the doctor and we won’t all fit. So I said we’d be fine, only he worries about Abby cos she keeps doing stuff like getting her toe stuck in the sink. So I promised we’d sit on the gate and not move until you came. Abby promised faithfully not to fall off.’