When Mum had gone home, I unpacked Evie’s book bag. There was a slip of paper tucked inside her reading journal.

My heart sank, wondering what it was she wanted to talk to me about. I hoped she wasn’t still concerned about Evie settling into her new class.

I felt exhausted, far too tired to contemplate unpacking anything upstairs, so I decided I’d just make us a light tea and crash out on the sofa while Evie watched TV. Not the most nurturing plan a parent ever came up with, but I told myself that, sometimes, needs must.

‘Mummy, when are we going to McDonalds?’ Evie said.

I stared at her, this morning’s forgotten promise echoing in my head. I felt like crying.

‘You promised,’ she said, watching me with narrowed eyes.

‘We can go now if you like,’ I said wearily. ‘Get your coat and shoes.’

‘Miss Watson said fast food is full of salt and sugar that add hicks you,’ Evie remarked, buckling her shoes. ‘But I still want to go.’

---

When we left McDonalds and drove home, the first thing I noticed, when we turned into Muriel Crescent, was that the lights were on in the kitchen of number sixty-one. The blinds were still pulled down and although I could see shadows moving around, the fabric was too substantial to make out any detail. As we drove by, I saw that the car parked outside number sixty-one was a black Audi, remarkably similar to the car that had sped by me earlier.

Later, before I climbed into bed, I turned off the light and peeked out of the curtains onto the road. Number sixty-one was almost directly opposite our house, and a dim lamp had just snapped on in the lounge, illuminating the room in a rosy glow.

A woman walked over to the windows to draw the curtains. I squinted at the shape behind her and realised that there was someone else there in the room too. Before she pulled the curtains completely closed, the woman hesitated and stared out for a few seconds, clutching the drapes close to her face.

If I was the paranoid type, I’d have sworn she was looking directly up at me.

---

The next morning, Evie and I walked to school under our matching ladybird-themed umbrellas, which served as both a novelty and a distraction for her.

I kept looking for signs that she seemed a little happier going to school, but I couldn’t find any evidence of that. She didn’t complain loudly or refuse to go in, like she had done previously, but her demeanour was virtually identical. She remained surly and quiet for most of the journey.

It was a tall order to expect Harriet Watson to work her magic in the space of a single one-to-one session. We were in it for the long haul, but I felt sure we’d get there in the end.

When we reached the school gates, Harriet Watson was waiting for us. Evie looked up at me, slightly alarmed, but I squeezed her hand to reassure her everything was fine and she wasn’t in any trouble.

We all walked towards the building together.

‘Now, run along to the classroom, Evie, and I’ll be through in a few minutes,’ Miss Watson said briskly when we got inside.

I bent down and got a peck on the cheek before Evie sauntered down the corridor towards Rowan Class.

Miss Watson led me into the pleasant open-plan library space. We moved from echoing wooden flooring onto a carpet that muted all the sounds. Shelves piled with colourful, tempting books of every genre lined the walls. Even the lighting seemed a little softer in here.

Although pupils were constantly walking by us to their classrooms, it was a surprisingly calm and private space, buffered as we were by the bookcases and carpet. We sat down at a round table next to the back wall.

‘Thanks so much for coming in,’ Harriet began, placing her hands, one on top of the other, on the tabletop. ‘I wanted to tell you how the session went yesterday. Evie was very responsive and chatted openly about her friends and life at her old school.’

‘She told me.’ I nodded, smiling. ‘In fact, Evie said you were going to arrange for her three friends to visit her here.’

We shared a chuckle.

‘Oh dear, little Evie perhaps got the wrong end of the stick there.’ Harriet smiled. ‘I’m sure I never said anything of the sort.’

‘Don’t worry, I realised she must have got confused,’ I said. ‘I thought it was positive you’d got her talking about friendships though. I really hope Evie will make some new friends here very soon.’

‘Quite,’ Harriet Watson agreed. ‘But try not to worry. I have every confidence Evie will soon forge strong friendships here at St Saviour’s. Her involvement in my small group work during the day will encourage this, as she’ll be working with the same group of classmates most days. We sit right here, in fact.’ She patted the tabletop.

‘It’s a lovely space,’ I said, looking around with approval.

‘You’re probably wondering why I wanted to speak with you,’ she ventured. ‘I just wanted to reiterate what I said about you making an effort to pick Evie up after the later sessions.’

I felt a prickle of annoyance.

‘I will ask at work, but as I said, I’ve only just started the job, so it might be a bit difficult to change my hours at this early stage.’

‘I understand work is important, Mrs Cotter, but—’

‘I will ask,’ I said again. ‘But Evie is completely used to being with my mum, it’s not as if a stranger is picking her up. She loves her Nanny and—’

‘And I’m afraid therein lies the problem, Mrs Cotter.’

‘Call me Toni, please,’ I said. ‘And sorry, what do you mean?’

‘This is difficult.’ Harriet sighed, pressing her hands into the desk and leaning forward.

‘I’d rather you be honest,’ I said, feeling a wave of tension steadily filling the space between my shoulder blades.

‘I get the impression that your mother – sorry, remind me of her name?’

‘Anita.’

‘Of course. I get the impression that Anita rather thinks she knows best when it comes to Evie. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

I nodded slowly. I couldn’t argue with her assumption.

‘It strikes me that, although Anita obviously loves Evie with all her heart, she thinks she knows better than you, her mother, or indeed myself, an educational professional with decades of experience.’

But not a teacher. The thought flitted through my mind, but I had to admit, qualified teacher or not, she was talking sense.

She looked at me. ‘Mrs Cotter – Toni – the last thing I wish to do is offend you but—’

‘Not at all,’ I interrupted. ‘I’m not offended, honestly. You seemed to have worked Mum out. I’m impressed.’

‘Really? Oh, well, that’s somewhat of a relief.’

‘I’m afraid me and Mum often clash over what we think is best for Evie.’ I held back saying any more because it felt a bit disloyal to Mum. She’d be so upset if she heard us talking like this.

‘I’ll be frank, I’m afraid I got the distinct impression that Anita wasn’t a fan of Evie staying for our one-to-one sessions.’

I bit my lip and stayed quiet, but inside I cringed. I hoped Mum hadn’t said anything inappropriate to Harriet.

‘And of course, we all know that children are like little sponges, soaking up the opinions and unspoken disapproval of the adults around them.’ Harriet pressed her lips together. ‘Toni, I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but I think your mother is unknowingly sabotaging the work we are trying to do with Evie.’

‘Oh.’ A thickness collected in the middle of my throat, cracking my voice a little. ‘I’m sure Mum would never—’

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Harriet said hurriedly. ‘There’s no doubt in my mind that your mother wants the very best for Evie – but that’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it? She doesn’t really know what’s best.’

I thought about how Mum said Evie was better at home than in Harriet’s sessions, how she said the school staff were to blame for Evie not settling in as well as we’d expected.

‘Toni,’ Harriet said gently, ‘what I’m saying is this: I think, to give Evie the best chance, you need to limit the time she spends alone with your mum.’