‘Sorry,’ Jennie muttered to him now, over her son’s head.

Dan regarded her frostily for a moment, but then his lip uncurled. He had the grace to accept this apology for what it was: a genuine one, from a woman driven to distraction by unexplained circumstances, whose imagination had galloped from a teenage pregnancy, to her husband’s love child, to underage sex, all in the space of a few hours. He inclined his head in acceptance, and although he was unable to resist a faint gleam to the eye, she stood forgiven. And Dan forgave Jennie a lot, it occurred to me; almost as much as she forgave him. Albeit for different reasons.

‘Puppies!’ breathed Hannah blissfully into the silence. She beamed up at her mother. ‘Will Leila have puppies, Mum?’

‘No doubt,’ said Jennie darkly, resting her chin squarely on Jamie’s head; he was still squirming in her tight embrace. Suddenly her face became wreathed in smiles. ‘And there’ll be no half measures for our Leila, either. She won’t pop out a modest set of twins. Oh no, it’ll be a hundred and one Dalmatians for her!” She gave a sharp laugh.

‘And can we keep one?’ implored Hannah, her eyes huge.

‘No, darling, we can’t,’ Jennie told her firmly: overjoyed, it seemed, but not completely overwhelmed by the situation before her.

Hannah’s face fell, as did Jamie’s when he was finally released.

‘Oh, Mum?’ he implored.

Dan raised enquiring eyebrows at his wife. Still in a position of power, he was keen to push home the advantage, and Jennie caught the look and hesitated, which was fatal. It was pounced on immediately.

‘Go on, Mum!’ they chorused.

She vacillated. ‘Oh God, we’ll see,’ she said finally, at which massive capitulation a whoop went up from her offspring, including Frankie. ‘I said, we’ll see!’ she cried, but everyone knew she was shot to bits.

‘Come on, you lot.’ Dan took Hannah’s shoulders and turned her about, grinning widely and propelling his family out through the open back door. ‘Back to bed for you. Sorry, Poppy.’ He turned back to me as his offspring scampered excitedly away. ‘I do apologize for intruding so brutishly on your evening, but thank God we got that one sorted out. It was only a matter of time before she accused me of harbouring a love child somewhere in the village, of leading a completely double life.’ This time he couldn’t resist a withering look at his increasingly shamefaced wife. ‘An affair,’ he said incredulously. ‘As if. Who with? And when would I have the time, or the opportunity?’ This, when his younger children were safely over the wall, Frankie in their wake.

‘Well, quite,’ muttered Jennie, looking exhausted suddenly. She ran a weary hand through her hair. ‘Or the bloody energy,’ she added ruefully.

‘And in the marital bed too. What kind of a man d’you take me for?’ He shook his head, lips pursed. ‘I worry about the way your mind works sometimes, Jennie, I really do. In fact I’m increasingly concerned for your moral compass.’ He was enjoying himself now.

‘I was severely provoked,’ replied his wife testily, not one to be contrite for long. ‘And since I’d exhausted all other possibilities – or thought I had … Of course, foolishly, it didn’t occur to me it was your bloody dog shagging around, weeing on sticks –’

‘That’s … my canine dog, I take it,’ put in Dan. ‘Only, just now you accused me of having some dog in bed with me, and I can assure you that whilst Leila and I are very fond of each other we have never crossed that –’

‘Oh, shut up, Dan,’ Jennie interrupted, irritated. ‘You might have the high ground for one split second but we all know it won’t last long. It’ll be shifting under your feet before you can say caught with your trousers down again.’

‘Which is why I’m making the most of it!’ he cried in mock outrage as they trooped off down the lawn together, taking a more conventional route than their children, via my garden gate at the end, then back through theirs. He flung his arm around her shoulders as they went. ‘Why d’you think I’m milking it for all it’s worth? Oh, good evening, Mrs Harper! Yes, the bitch is pregnant, isn’t that joyous? Doesn’t she look well?’ A grey perm scuttled inside in terror. ‘Oh, don’t go,’ Dan cried. ‘Let’s make an evening of it! Why make haste when there’s so much to celebrate? When the night is still young?’ We heard a kitchen door slam firmly. Dan grinned back at me over his shoulder. ‘Night, Poppy.’

‘Night.’ I smiled and went inside.

Jennie, however, not one to leave a drama alone for long, was through that same back door the following morning, as I was bundling my sheets into the washing machine. Clemmie, who had a cold, was playing quietly in the sitting room, and once Jennie had popped in to say hello to her, she installed herself at my kitchen table with a mug of coffee.

‘Puppies!’ she groaned.

‘Now, Jennie,’ I warned, turning round from my machine, ‘I’m not having that. It’s bloody marvellous news. You were euphoric last night. It’s yippee, puppies, remember?’

‘Oh, I know,’ she agreed. ‘And I was still in a good mood when we got in, I promise. I had a lovely hug from Frankie and we even shed a few tears together.’

‘Did you? Oh, good.’

‘Stayed up chatting for ages. She was horrified that we thought she was pregnant but understood why. She also said I’d behaved slightly better than her father, which cheered me. Said she’d had no idea her dad could go off the deep end like that. I told her it was only because he loved her so much and she agreed, grudgingly, then, being Frankie, said, “Oh, so you didn’t, because you don’t?” ’

I laughed. ‘Typical.’

‘I know, and she didn’t mean it. She was only being clever, so I didn’t react. She does that too much, of course. The clever, cynical bit.’

I shrugged. ‘It’s just a defence mechanism. She’ll grow out of it. And she is clever, Jennie. Far too clever to get herself pregnant. She’ll go far, that girl.’

‘I know she will. We talked about all that too – A levels, university. She’d like to go to Frazer House for sixth form.’

‘Oh. Can you afford it?’ Frazer House was private.

‘No. But I think we should try. She’d do so well there. I’m going to persuade Dan that we should borrow it, crawl to the bank manager.’

I was silenced. Jennie didn’t believe in borrowing, it was against all her instincts. She kept a very tight hold on the purse strings, but then again, as she always said, she had to. Dan would blow it all on the three-thirty at Kempton if he could.

‘Don’t think you’ll have any difficulty there, then,’ I grinned.

She smiled. ‘No, I know. And I do also know,’ she eyed me sheepishly, ‘that I am a controlling old bag at times, but trust me, you’d be the same with my family.’

I wouldn’t, I knew. I’d be more like Dan; but that would be hopeless, wouldn’t it? People like Dan and me frittered money until there was nothing left – like Dad, I realized, remembering too my hefty cheque to the hunt. Because it didn’t really interest me. Careful people like Jennie were crucial. But then, that’s what I’d thought I had with Phil. And look how careless he’d turned out to be? With feelings, rather than money.

‘And there is a boy,’ went on Jennie, still with Frankie. She sipped her coffee. ‘The only problem is, it’s Hugo.’

‘Hugo!’ I turned back from stuffing my sheets in. I was astonished. Hugo. Angus and Sylvia’s rather gorgeous grandson, who hunted to hounds in the holidays and was currently on his gap year before going to Cambridge. He was very much not what I’d expected, and very much the property of one of Angie’s girls, surely?

‘I thought he was joined at the hip with Clarissa?’

‘That’s what Clarissa thought too, and is mighty upset about it. She considers him to be her property – even though he’s never been out with her. She knows he’s with a friend of hers but she doesn’t know who. He wants to break it to her gently, which is why it’s a secret.’

I remembered Frankie running under cover of darkness to a car outside the pub, which of course was where he worked. Remembered too Angie telling me Clarissa was upset about a boy.

‘Oh. Good for Frankie.’ I couldn’t help it.

She grinned. ‘I know. He’s a lovely boy.’ Suddenly she looked defiant. ‘But then she’s a lovely girl. Interesting too. Not your run-of-the-mill, giggle at everything, flicky-haired type.’

‘Quite.’

‘She wants to grow it,’ she said absently. ‘Take it back a shade or two. More tawny.’

‘Good idea.’

We were silent a moment. My mind flew back to Jennie, years ago, struggling with this defiant, wilful child, whose alcoholic mother had become more and more disinterested. There’d been some good years after that, between the ages of about nine and twelve, when all that mattered had been getting in the netball team in the winter and the rounders team in the summer – Jennie had even bribed the teacher with chocolate brownies once – but then some tricky ones. Could it be that she and Frankie were entering a good phase again? And could it last, this time? Jennie had certainly put her back into it, even if at times she felt she hadn’t.

‘Dan must be pleased? That you two are back on track?’ I hazarded, closing the machine door with an effort. Too full.

‘Yes, even though it’s slightly at his expense and he’s been cast as the tyrannical Dickensian father.’

‘That was just shock talking.’

‘I know, and Frankie knows it too. Yes, Dan’s pleased. In fact I’d go so far as to say he was positively smug last night. I assumed he’d be asleep when I finally crawled upstairs after my session with Frankie, but there he was, propped up on pillows, bright-eyed and banking on me being extremely grateful.’

‘Ah.’ I laughed. ‘Bad luck.’

‘Actually I rather enjoyed it. Didn’t seem like the onerous duty it sometimes does. I joined in for a change, rather than viewing it entirely as a spectator sport.’

‘Slightly too much information, Jennie.’

‘Sorry. Just explaining the baggy eyes this morning.’ She grinned sheepishly and hid them in her coffee. They twinkled a bit. ‘Anyway, we made a sort of pact to go away on our own for a few days after Christmas. Get to know each other again, as they’re so fond of telling us to do in women’s magazines.’

‘Good idea. I’ll have the kids.’

‘Thanks, but I think Frankie will be fine if you’d just keep a weather eye. Lob some fresh fruit over the fence every now and then.’

It occurred to me that a few weeks ago Jennie would never have trusted Frankie to look after the younger ones. They must have had a very good chat.

‘And what about you?’ She eyed me speculatively. I flinched. I knew that look. Once Jennie had sorted out her own life there was nothing she liked more than getting to grips with someone else’s. I wriggled under her laser beam but was trapped, like a moth on a microscope slide. ‘I thought you were going out last night? How come you were still skulking in your dressing gown when we burst in like the Addams Family?’

‘Ah. Well.’ I told her about Luke. About Angie. Then about Peggy.

She looked thoughtful a moment. Compressed her lips. ‘Bit of a knee-jerk reaction?’

‘What, mine?’

‘Well, yes. Angie casually mentions you haven’t exactly been left destitute, and suddenly his motives are all wrong and he’s a gold-digging fortune-hunter and you drop him like a hot coal.’

‘Well –’

‘You’re not exactly Jackie Onassis, Poppy.’

I flushed, remembering I’d compared myself to the very same woman last night. ‘No, of course not.’

‘You’ve just been left enough to buy a decent house and educate your kids, which the widow of any professional man who’s built up a business might expect. Luke could have worked that out for himself. And you’ve still got two children, as he rightly observed to Angie. Still come with baggage.’

I stared at her. ‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying you’re leaping to conclusions, courtesy of Peggy, who only thinks in black and white. Roger was the love of her life, ergo there will never be another. End of story. So she gads about teasing the elderly bachelors but will never bring herself to land one. Is that what you want?’