I stepped out of Gregory’s Property Services and into the street. I felt a little better after inhaling a few deep breaths of fresh air. Being cooped up in that tiny office, under pressure, had been testing to say the least.

I slipped off my jacket, folded it over my arm and began walking briskly down the street towards my car. Soon, my heart rate would calm down and my face would stop burning.

I had plenty of time left on my parking ticket. But it was nearly three forty-five and Evie would already be home from school.

I was so excited to hear about how her first day had gone.

I fired off a quick text to say I was on my way and how was Evie, but Mum didn’t reply. I felt a stab of annoyance. Of all days, you’d think she would let me know how Evie had coped on her first day at big school.

There was more traffic on the journey home than I’d expected but I didn’t mind because it gave me a little thinking time. I wound the windows down slightly, enjoying the warm breeze but wishing the car had air con.

Maybe, just maybe, this job could get me a newer car and a weekend break away for Evie and I. Those things might not be as unreachable as they felt right now.

There had been a point during the interview when Bryony seemed to be so openly hostile that I questioned if I really wanted to work there.

But why should I let someone so obviously bitter put a dampener on my plans for a better life? I really liked Dale and although I hadn’t had a chance to speak to the other female agent at the desk, Gregory’s seemed a nice enough place to work.

I managed to find a parking space outside the house and as I got out of the car, I expected to see Evie banging excitedly on the living room window, desperate to tell me about her day.

We’d already developed a habit of using the back kitchen door, rather than the front door which led directly into the living room, so I walked around the side of the house.

I noticed that the yard was overgrown with more weeds than actual grass and it looked like the entire population of the estate’s cats were used to treating the borders as the local litter tray.

Mum was adamant we should always keep the doors locked ‘in an area like this’ so I wasn’t surprised when I tried the handle and the door didn’t open.

Rather than start ferreting in my bag for the bunch of keys I’d just thrown in there, I tapped on the opaque, patterned glass and waited. Nobody came to the door.

I eventually found my keys and unlocked it.

‘Hello?’ I called as I stepped inside the house.

Something about the silence and the stillness of the air within told me nobody was home, which was surprising. I glanced at the kitchen clock. It was nearly four fifteen, a full hour after Evie had finished, and I knew from this morning that walking at a leisurely pace to school took only fifteen minutes.

I pulled my phone out of my handbag and checked for messages. Nothing.

I dialled Mum’s number and it went straight through to answerphone.

My heart rate started to pick up pace again.

‘It’s fine,’ I murmured out loud. ‘Everything is fine.’

I dialled St Saviour’s and waited for the administrator to answer, but a recorded message informed me that the school office was now closed.

I sat down at the tiny kitchen table, my chest rising and falling far too fast. Since Andrew’s accident, my mind went straight from nought to a hundred miles per hour, seeing a crisis in everything. It sped to the worst case scenario every time.

Mum wouldn’t have forgotten it was Evie’s first day, I knew for sure she’d have been there to pick her up. So where could they be?

I couldn’t just sit here, doing nothing. I dumped my jacket and handbag and dashed from the house, clutching only my phone and keys.

So many awful what if scenarios sped through my mind, I could barely keep track.

What if there had been a road accident involving Mum and Evie?

What if Mum had collapsed and Evie had run into the road in a panic?

What if Mum was ill and unconscious somewhere and Evie had somehow managed to wander home on her own?

I emerged on to the street, my eyes prickling and mouth dry, and that’s when I saw them. Turning the corner into Muriel Crescent.

‘Yoo-hoo!’ Mum called, waving.

Evie had an ice cream in her hand and seemed subdued. Usually, I’d expect her to break away from Mum and run to me.

‘Where were you?’ I rushed up. ‘I was worried sick.’

‘Heavens, Toni,’ Mum said in her there you go again with your completely illogical reaction tone of voice that always made me feel incredibly stupid despite the high level of panic Mum had managed to provoke. ‘It’s a warm day and you were at your interview. There’s no sense in Evie being cooped up in the house.’

Mum’s infuriatingly logical reasoning. Why couldn’t I have told myself the same thing before I launched into imagining my whole world ending?

‘But I thought . . . Anything could have happened. I texted you.’

‘My phone’s out of charge.’ Mum shrugged. ‘I left it on the side in the kitchen. Please don’t make a scene about it, love.’

Me make a scene? I spent most of my time walking on eggshells so as not to annoy Mum. Still, I let it go.

I realised Evie hadn’t said a word. I stepped in front of her and sank down on my haunches. My heart was still hammering but I knew it would calm down soon, now I knew she was safe. ‘Do I get a cuddle from my big girl, then?’

She gave me a weak smile and a half-hearted hug and that’s when I saw she’d been crying. I looked up at Mum.

‘Besides, Evie got herself a little bit upset, didn’t you, petal?’ Mum shot me a meaningful look. ‘I thought a little walk to the park and an ice cream might help.’

When we got back inside the house, Evie went straight to the living room door and waited there. I went in first and did my waspie walkabout. This was what we now called our new routine. Before Evie felt comfortable entering this room, I had to check every inch of it for wasps that might have escaped Mr Etheridge, the world’s greatest pest controller.

When Evie was satisfied the room was safe, she turned on the TV and, despite the heat, snuggled under her fleecy comfort blanket with her thumb in her mouth. She wouldn’t entertain the window being open anymore. I was hoping that in time the trauma would fade. Just like the stings seemed to be doing at last.

When I was sure Evie was settled, I went back in the kitchen, flicked on the kettle and looked at Mum.

‘What happened?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Mum sighed. ‘For starters, you told me the wrong time, which didn’t help.’

‘What?’

‘School finishes at three fifteen, Toni, not three thirty. The other children had been collected and when I got there poor Evie was sat all alone.’

I frowned. I could have sworn that when Harriet Watson visited, she’d made a point of telling me that pick-up time was three thirty.

‘Anyway, when I picked her up from class, Miss Akhtar, her teacher, said she’d had a good day.’

‘I thought her teacher’s name was Miss Watson?’

‘No, it was definitely a Miss Akhtar, she introduced herself to me. A nice young woman she was, looked as though she was just out of university.’

That description didn’t match the middle-aged, rather stern Harriet Watson, who had visited us earlier in the week. I seemed to be getting all the details mixed up in my head.

I made two coffees and we sat down at the table.

‘I thought Evie seemed a bit quiet, and when we got out of the school gates, she burst into tears,’ Mum said, tracing a deep scratch on the thin wooden veneer of the tabletop.

‘Why was she so upset?’

‘She wouldn’t tell me, Toni.’ Mum looked up at me and I could see she felt troubled and confused about Evie’s reaction. ‘All she kept saying was that she doesn’t want to go to school tomorrow. Don’t get annoyed with her.’

‘Why do you keep saying that?’ I took a big gulp of steaming hot coffee and swallowed it down, wincing as it burned my throat. ‘When have I ever caused a scene or got annoyed?’

Mum looked at me.

I did feel a twist of blame towards her for not finding more out from the school. If she’d noticed Evie was overly quiet, then Mum should’ve asked the teacher a few more questions.

‘It’s a shame you couldn’t have been there to pick her up on your first day,’ Mum said, on the defensive again and weirdly accurate. ‘Then you could have asked her teacher yourself.’

I wasn’t going to get into a fight with Mum. I couldn’t handle it today.

‘By the way, my interview went well,’ I said pointedly. ‘They’re ringing me later to let me know if I’ve got it.’

‘Oh good,’ Mum said, her tone conveying that, in her opinion, it was actually the exact opposite of good. She stood up and picked up something from the counter that was wrapped in a clean tea towel. ‘Here, I made a quiche for your tea.’