Joan, having finished the church flowers, declined Heather’s offer of a bite of lunch because she was due at Mags’s salon for her fortnightly shampoo and set. As she trudged from the church to the town centre she wondered about the wisdom of having agreed to do the flower arranging, knowing she would be having her hair done later. Too late to worry about that now, but no two ways about it, she thought, she was knackered. That bug she’d had over the winter had knocked her for six and no mistake. Still, on the positive side, she’d get to sit down for the next hour or so and, anyway, having her hair done always made her feel more chipper. Wearily she pushed open the door to Cutz and Curlz and was assaulted by a gust of warm steamy air and the scent of a dozen different hairdressing products. She crossed the small lobby to the reception desk. The receptionist’s hair was a startling shade of blue. She could have sworn the last time she’d been in it had been pink... or had it been green?

‘Hi, Joan.’ said the girl, barely looking up.

‘Afternoon, Janine.’

‘I’ll tell her you’re here. Wanna give me your coat?’

Joan shrugged her mac off and handed it over.

‘Take a seat,’ said Janine as she bunged the mac on a hanger and shoved it on the rail. Joan resisted the temptation to remove it, put it on the hanger properly, with the top button done up, and the creases shaken out.

Janine gestured laconically to the tiny sofa and then slouched off to the door that led to the staff restroom. She returned seconds later, followed by Mags.

‘Hello, Joan,’ said Mags proffering a gown for Joan to slip on. ‘The usual? Or can I tempt you to a few highlights, or a nice asymmetric cut, or maybe a bit of colour?’ She nodded in Janine’s direction, as she tucked a towel around Joan’s neck. ‘All the rage.’

‘No, ta. Just my usual shampoo and set, thanks.’

‘Come on through then and we’ll get you started.’

Joan sat on the seat, tipped her head back towards the basin and shut her eyes while Mags got the water the right temperature and then started work with her deft fingers and the shampoo.

‘Amy had some news earlier.’

‘Oh, yes?’ said Joan.

‘A family has moved into The Beeches. Just arrived, she said.’

‘I know, I heard first thing this morning from the postman.’

‘Oh.’ Mags sounded rather put out. ‘Anyway, Amy says it’s a young family. Three kids.’

‘That’s nice.’ Joan wasn’t really interested. She was luxuriating in having her scalp massaged.

‘Amy’s hoping she can get her old cleaning job back.’

‘Hmmm.’ She felt totally relaxed and didn’t want to spoil the feeling with chit-chat.

‘It’ll be nice having more kids around in the town. Nothing personal, Joan, but there’s precious few young families here these days, not with house prices the way they are. Amy said she’d heard the primary school is worried about numbers.’

‘Hmmm.’

‘On the other hand, those new houses they’re building round the back of the station might help though I doubt many of the young families around here’ll be able to find enough to buy one. Apparently there’s some built for the housing association and a whole bunch that’s supposed to be affordable but I heard even the smallest of the other ones start at half a mill. Half a mill?’ Mags voice rose to a shrill crescendo. ‘I ask you.’

‘Indeed.’

Mags began to rinse out the first application of shampoo. ‘Water all right?’

‘Lovely.’

‘Amy said one of the kids moving in looked a bit of a basket case; looked like she was scared to death of her own shadow. I mean, what’s to be scared of in a place like this? ’Tisn’t like she’s moving to some place with guns and drugs like you hear about on the news. You take what you hear about the big cities...’

But Joan had stopped listening and was drifting into a doze as Mags’s magic fingers washed and rinsed and conditioned her hair and she yakked on about the state of the country, the young of today and what she thought the police should do about it all.

*

As Mags installed Joan under a drier, the removal van arrived at The Beeches. Bex made the guys mugs of tea all round and then went to the foot of the stairs. She could hear the boys playing with some game or other on their iPads in one of the bedrooms but she had no idea where Megan had got to – probably back upstairs in her room; she seemed to love it up there at the top of the house.

‘Megan? Megan, can you come down for a minute, please?’ she bellowed up the stairwell.

Big houses were all very well, she thought, but there were a lot of stairs. If she had to run up and down to get hold of Megan every time she needed her she was going to get incredibly fit.

A few seconds ticked by before Megan appeared on the upstairs landing. She leaned over the banister.

‘Yeah?’

‘Can you take the boys out for a little bit, while the men get the furniture in? I really don’t want them to get underfoot and I’m going to be busy directing where things are to go.’

Megan’s sigh was audible down in the hall. ‘If I must.’

‘It’s a lovely day, you could take them for a walk.’

‘Where?’

‘Into town.’

‘And do what?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe there’s a play park somewhere. See if you can find one.’

‘I suppose.’

Megan disappeared from view and Bex heard her telling the boys to get their coats. They clattered down the stairs just as two burly removal men appeared, hauling the sofa.

Megan grabbed both the boys’ arms and tugged them out of the way as the men struggled to wrestle it through the sitting room door. Bex thrust a ten-pound note in Megan’s hand. ‘Buy an ice cream or something while you’re out. I’d like the boys out of the way while the men get the worst of the job done – the heavy stuff.’

‘Cheers.’ She stuffed the note in her jeans’ pocket. Then, ‘Come on, boys,’ she said as she led them out through the front door.

The van filled the gravel drive and the three children had to squeeze past it. Alfie was mesmerised with the huge cavernous space filled with their possessions.

‘Horsey!’ he shouted, catching sight of the rocking horse. ‘Want Horsey.’

‘Horsey will be in your room when we get back,’ promised Megan. ‘Come on, we’ll go and explore the town.’

Grasping Alfie’s hand firmly and ignoring his protests she led the two boys down the drive and out onto the main street.

It was busy with shoppers and kids. Megan looked at the faces of the children she passed and wondered if any were in her new class. What would the kids be like? Would they be nice to her? She knew that the girl who’d joined her class late, at her old school, hadn’t had the best time to start with. She felt guilty about that now because she should have been nicer and it would serve her right if she had a bit of a struggle to fit in herself. She wished she’d behaved differently but it was too late to put things right now. It seemed to Megan that she spent a lot of time these days wishing ‘if only...’

She and the boys continued walking through the town. Megan thought about stopping a passer-by and asking for directions or even if there was a play park in the town. The kids seemed happy to keep walking though and Alfie, who had apparently forgotten about Horsey, was skipping along by her side. They passed a sign to the station.

‘Let’s go and see if we can see some trains,’ suggested Megan. But when they got there, the display board made it fairly obvious that the trains to Little Woodford at this time of day were few and far between, or few and far between compared to the lines that ran close to their house in London, and the next one wasn’t due for another thirty minutes. On the other hand there was a building site on the far side of the tracks and Alfie spent a happy few minutes watching the diggers scooping up the soil and dumping it into the backs of tipper trucks.

‘Where’s my digger?’ asked Alfie. He’d been given a huge Tonka bulldozer the previous Christmas and he’d loved playing with it in their sandpit back at their old house.

‘Somewhere on that big lorry at home,’ answered Megan.

‘Can I have it when we get back?’

‘I’ll try and find it for you. Now, talking about finding things, let’s see if we can find a play park.’

The three trailed back to the high street and continued their walk through town. Just as Megan was thinking of abandoning her quest she came to a big pair of wrought iron gates, behind which were acres of grass, a swing park in the far corner and skateboard ramps opposite it. Bingo. She let go of the boys’ hands and they tore off across the grass like a pair of greyhounds out of the traps. Megan followed on and by the time she reached them they were balanced on a see-saw, their feet dangling inches above the ground, neither able to push off and give them the impetus to get going.

‘Push us, Megs,’ exhorted Lewis.

Obligingly, Megan stood at the pivot and pushed down one side then the other. The two boys shrieked in delight as they bounced up and down. After a few minutes they got bored with the see-saw and charged off to the swings. Lewis was big enough to reach the ground and to propel himself higher and higher but Alfie dangled rather pathetically. Again Megan came to the rescue and soon Alfie was swooping up and down nearly as high as his brother. And then they had a go on the roundabout for quite a while until the slide caught their attention. Then it was back to the swings and Megan was called on to help, once again. When Alfie didn’t need her Megan sat on a bench with her phone and kept an eye on her half-brothers and another on Facebook and Snapchat. Across the park she was aware of older children – mostly around her age, she thought – on their BMX bikes and skateboards performing tricks and stunts on the ramps. It was all very pleasant and relaxing as the minutes ticked past and Megan, warmed by the sun, lost track of time. Suddenly she saw one of the kids grab his skateboard and head off across the grass. He tore off at such a rate he looked as if he was worried about being late for something.

Late! Megan checked the time. Shit, they’d been out for ages – Bex would be getting worried.

‘Boys, boys! Time to go.’

The pair were reluctant to leave the park and Alfie was close to tears.

‘No,’ he wailed. ‘Want to stay.’

‘Mummy’ll want us home.’

‘Don’t care.’ Alfie turned to run back to the swings but Megan caught his arm.

‘Time to go,’ she said firmly, starting to drag him towards the gate.

Alfie’s sobs grew louder. ‘No, no, no.’

Megan remembered the tenner in her pocket.

‘I’ll buy you an ice cream.’

‘Don’t want one.’

‘How about a big chocolate one?’

‘With sprinkles on.’

‘Hundreds and thousands of sprinkles. As many as you want.’

‘And me?’ said Lewis.

‘Of course you too.’

Meltdown averted, Alfie allowed himself to be led towards the road. As they passed the ramps the boys lingered to watch the stunts for a second or two. One of the boys performed a trick whereby he turned through a half circle in mid-air and landed halfway down one of the ramps. Megan was impressed. She was also impressed by his looks; blond curly hair and nice eyes. Lush, she thought.

The lad saw her staring and grinned, revealing very white and even teeth. She wondered if he went to her school. He looked nice as well as fit, she thought, and hoped he did.