“That’s Fenella, dear!” says the woman in blue sitting next to her.

“I don’t mean Fenella! I mean the other girl, talking to her.”

“D’you mean Lulu? That’s Lulu Hetherington.”

I raise my head in surprise. So. Lulu isn’t a horse. She’s a girl.

Actually, she does look quite like a horse. She’s very thin and rangy, like Suze, and wearing a pink tweed suit. She laughs at something Fenella says — and she’s got one of those smiles which show all her teeth and gums.

“She’s a godmother,” Agnes is saying. “Super girl. She’s Susan’s best friend!”

What?

I look up, taken aback. That’s ridiculous. I’m Suze’s best friend. Everyone knows that.

“Lulu moved into the village six months ago and they’ve become quite inseparable!” Agnes continues. “We see them out riding together every day. She’s so like dear Susan. Just look at the two of them together!”

Suze has appeared at the front of the church, holding Wilfrid. I suppose there is a superficial likeness between her and Lulu. They’re both tall and blond. They’ve both got their hair in the same chignon. Suze is talking to Lulu, her face shining with animation, and as I watch, they both burst into peals of laughter.

“And of course they have so much in common!” Agnes’s voice cuts through the air behind me. “What with the horses and the children… they’re wonderful support for each other.”

“Every girl needs a best friend,” says the other woman wisely.

She breaks off as the organ starts playing. The congregation stands up and I reach for my service sheet along with everyone else. But I can’t read a word. I’m too jumbled up inside.

After the service is over, we all head back to the house, where a string quartet is playing in the hall and waiters are circulating with drinks. Luke is immediately accosted by some friend of Tarquin’s who knows him through business, and I stand for a while on my own, brooding on what I heard in the church.

“Bex!” I wheel round in relief as I hear Suze’s voice behind me.

“Suze!” I beam at her. “That was great!”

Just seeing Suze’s friendly face sweeps all my worries away. Of course we’re still best friends!

I have to remember that I’ve been away for a long time, so Suze had to make friends with people locally or whatever. But the point is, I’m back now!

“Suze, let’s go shopping tomorrow!” I say impulsively. “We can go up to London… I’ll help you with the babies…”

“Bex, I can’t.” Her brow wrinkles. “I promised Lulu I’d go riding tomorrow morning.”

For a moment I don’t know what to say. Couldn’t she cancel riding? She always rides, and I’ve only just come home.

“Oh, right.” I try to smile. “Well… no problem. We’ll do it another time!”

The baby in Suze’s arms has started to wail lustily and she pulls a face.

“I’ve got to go and feed them now. But then I must introduce you to Lulu. You two will love each other!”

“I’m sure we will!” I say, trying to sound enthusiastic. “See you later!”

I watch as Suze disappears into the library.

“Champagne, madam?” says a waiter behind me.

“Oh, right. Thanks.”

I take a glass of champagne off the tray. Then, with a sudden thought, I take another. I head for the library door and am about to reach for the handle, when Lulu comes out, closing the door behind her.

“Oh, hello!” she says in a posh, clipped voice. “Suze is feeding in there, actually.”

“I know.” I smile. “I’m her friend Becky. I’ve brought her some champagne.”

Lulu smiles back — but her hand doesn’t move off the door handle.

“I think she’d probably like some privacy,” she says pleasantly.

For a moment I’m too astounded to reply.

Privacy? From me?

I was with Suze when she gave birth to Ernie! I feel like retorting. I’ve seen more of her than you ever will!

But no. I’m not going to get into scoring points with this person. Come on. Make an effort.

“So you must be Lulu,” I say as warmly as I can, and hold out my hand. “I’m Becky.”

“You’re Becky. Yes, I’ve heard about you.”

Why does she look amused? What has Suze said?

“And you’re Clementine’s godmother!” I say heartily. “That’s… lovely!”

I’m trying as hard as I can to make a connection. But there’s just something about her that makes me shrink away. Her lips are a bit too thin. Her eyes are a bit too cold.