With Poppy and Evie fed and settled, Melissa gave Jade the guided tour of the house, before the poor woman was driven mad by Poppy’s constant chatter and tea parties with an assortment of Peppa Pigs and scarily lifelike baby dolls. Poppy, it seemed, had taken to their guest, declaring Jade her ‘bestest friend ever’. Jade had been wonderful with her, and Melissa could see why she’d chosen childcare as a vocation. She was obviously a natural.

‘And this,’ she said, leading the way into the detached brick garage at the bottom of the back garden, ‘is what I grandly refer to as my studio. It still needs some work. The roof leaks when it rains and the window’s rattling in the frame, but it’s my sanctuary… when I can find time.’

‘Gosh, you have your own kiln?’ Jade said, obviously feeling the blast of warm air as they went in.

‘It is a bit stifling, isn’t it?’ Melissa said, as Jade fanned her face with her hand. ‘I normally have the air con on when I’m working.’ Reaching to flick the freestanding unit on, she bent to lift Poppy into her arms, lest she wander in the direction of the kiln. ‘I used to take my pieces to the art university to be fired, but they’re extremely fragile once the clay’s dried out. I did worry about the safety aspect of having my own kiln with little ones around, but at least it’s away from the house. And, as Mark said, if I’m going to be a serious sculptor…’

‘Impressive,’ Jade said, gazing around. ‘You even have a potter’s wheel.’

‘And a husband who understands my artistic temperament.’ Melissa smiled, recalling how she’d caught Mark watching her from the doorway one night, before he’d wandered in and done a fair imitation of Patrick Swayze. It had been messy – gloriously messy – but hugely satisfying.

‘Fortunately,’ Jade said, her gaze flitting over her, making Melissa immediately aware of the staple workwear she usually wore – leggings or jeans and tops that wouldn’t be ruined by clay or baby sick spatter. Was Jade being the tiniest bit facetious?

But then, seeing Jade’s warm smile, Melissa despaired of herself. It was her, feeding her own paranoia. She had wondered sometimes how Mark had stuck with her through the dark times. He’d never stopped reassuring her he loved her – down days, artistic temperament and all – but she couldn’t help thinking he might wish he was with someone more glamorous, someone who preferred to wear something slightly more alluring to bed than one of her husband’s old shirts. She was just someone who ‘scrubbed up well’ – at least according to Detective Sergeant Cummings, who’d voiced such an observation at the last social function they’d been to together.

But then, Mark had been quite into her shirt last night. Melissa smiled quietly, recalling the wicked glint in his chocolate-brown eyes as he told her that imagining her naked beneath it was a serious turn-on, how he’d pinned her to the bed, with not much protestation from her, and worked excruciatingly slowly through each button, finally asking her to keep it on while he made deliciously slow love to her.

Phew. Stop. She’d be dragging him upstairs for a repeat performance as soon as he walked through the door at this rate. Dismissing her errant thoughts – which she absolutely shouldn’t be having in company – she turned to her workbench to seat Poppy, who was growing heavy in her arms, at the end of it.

‘And this is my latest masterpiece,’ she said, indicating the sculpture on the bench. It was ceramic dipped in bronze, a kneeling, naked couple embracing, and Melissa was particularly proud of it. Still, she felt a flutter of trepidation in her tummy at showing it to Jade, which was mad considering her work was already stocking the shelves of the local craft centres and Garden & Homes store. Hopefully, the latter would stock her nationwide at some point, depending on whether she could fill the orders.

‘Wow!’ Jade looked the sculpture over and then back to Melissa in awe. ‘That’s really amazing, Melissa,’ she said, hesitantly reaching out a hand. ‘Can I touch it?’

‘Nooo,’ Poppy whispered, turning aghast eyes in Jade’s direction. ‘It’s not allowed.’

‘Not allowed with sticky fingers,’ Melissa reminded her, reaching for the tissue she kept permanently up her sleeve, ready to mop the remnants of Poppy’s coconut milk ice cream from her face, which would have the child wriggling like an eel in an instant.

‘Go ahead,’ she said, nodding Jade on. ‘Sculpture is as much about tactile stimulation as visual, in my mind.’

Tentatively, Jade traced the soft curves of the figures with her fingertips. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, sounding genuinely impressed. ‘Nice pecs,’ she added, turning to give Melissa a mischievous smile.

‘Yes,’ said Melissa, then, noting where her hand had come to rest, she laughed. ‘And I enjoyed sculpting that bit too.’

‘Mummy, what’s pecs?’ Poppy asked, temporarily distracted from Melissa’s face-scrubbing endeavours.

‘Muscles,’ Melissa supplied. ‘Large ones.’

Poppy looked at Melissa, astonished. ‘But, Mummeee, that’s a bottom,’ she pointed out, correctly.

Melissa and Jade exchanged glances and then both laughed out loud. ‘And a very tactile one, too,’ Jade assured her.

‘What’s tactile?’ was Poppy’s inevitable next question.

‘Pleasing to the touch. Now, come on, young lady, scoot,’ Melissa said, lifting Poppy down from the workbench. ‘Go and choose a DVD. Daddy will be back soon to get you into your jim-jams. You can have one hour of TV before bed. And don’t wake Evie. She’s not due a feed yet.’

‘Yay! Beauty and the Beast.’ Poppy whooped excitedly, charging through the workshop door and up the garden path.