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Mia shook her head. ‘She did something a bit silly.’

Clara was an over-indulged, spoiled eight-year-old who had ordered the teacher to pick up her jumper from the sports pitch because she was too tired. When the teacher had reprimanded her for being so rude, Clara had said she’d get her fired.

Mia had spoken to her about her behaviour and told her to go and apologize. Clara had refused. Mia had called her mother, who seemed to think it was hilarious.

‘Oops,’ she’d said. ‘We have a lot of help at home, you see, so she’s just used to people doing things for her. She didn’t mean to be rude.’

‘Whether she did or not, Clara must apologize, and she must understand that in school the only person picking up her belongings is herself.’

‘I’ll talk to her tonight. Maybe we could send in a gift to the teacher. What do they like? Red or white wine? A voucher for Harvey Nichols?’

‘No wine or voucher is necessary, just a simple verbal apology.’

Mia had tried not to let her frustration show. Wine? Vouchers? Seriously? The woman needed a reality check, as did her daughter. The Celtic Tiger was well and truly back if this was going on in people’s homes. Staff running around picking up after an eight-year-old? Ridiculous.

Mind you, it would be nice to have no money worries.

‘All right, I’ll have a word with Clara, but I really think this teacher is overreacting. It’s just a silly misunderstanding,’ Clara’s mum trilled.

Misunderstanding? A teacher being mistaken for a slave? Mia thought.

‘Good. I’ll bring Clara to Mrs Hagan tomorrow to say she’ssorry.’ Mia hung up before Clara’s mother could try to backtrack.

‘Mummy, can we do baking tonight?’ Izzy asked Sarah.

‘Sure. What will we make?’

‘Cupcakes.’

Sarah laughed. ‘We always make cupcakes.’

‘I know, but they’re so yummy and we can put melted chocolate on top and eat them all.’

‘OK, sweetie, whatever you want.’

Izzy reached up and hugged her.

Mia smiled at them. Sarah was so good with Izzy. She was never impatient or short-tempered with her. Mia felt ashamed as she remembered Riley asking her to bake after a long day at school and her own response: ‘Not today, love, maybe at the weekend.’

She’d rarely baked with Riley. She was always too busy or tired, or something else had taken precedence. Mia felt bad about that. Still, Sarah didn’t work: she had more time and no financial worries. Maybe if Mia had given up work when Riley was young, she and her daughter would be closer. But they had been close. Mia closed her eyes and remembered the feeling of Riley’s soft cheek against hers as they cuddled in her bed when she read bedtime stories. Mia longed to put her arms around her spiky teenager and tell her she loved her. She’d do it when she got home, she decided. No time like the present.

Johnny was sprawled on the couch, reading the paper. Two coffee cups and a half-eaten packet of Chocolate Digestives were strewn on the coffee-table. Johnny jumped up when he saw Mia.

‘Before you ask, I haven’t been lounging about all day. I had a meeting with a head hunter earlier.’

Mia had to admit that she hated coming home to findJohnny lying about. She knew he was looking for a job, she understood it was hard, but it upset her if she found him on the couch reading or watching TV. She felt he needed to be constantly looking, meeting people, networking and trawling the internet for jobs and options. She was terrified he’d be out of work for years and they’d lose the house, or that he’d get depressed and never work again. His self-esteem would be in the gutter and he’d end up on anti-depressants feeling like half a man.

She knew she was a catastrophist, her mother had often told her to stop worrying so much, but Mia couldn’t help it. She always imagined the worst-case scenarios. She was really worried about Johnny and had a constant ache in the pit of her stomach. She wanted him to be happy, she wanted him to be fulfilled and, if she was being honest, she wanted him to be earning money so that all the pressure wasn’t on her shoulders. Bills seemed to mount daily, and the stress was keeping her up at night as she tried to tally incomings with outgoings in her head.

‘Great,’ she said enthusiastically. She wanted to show support. Mia pointed to the ceiling. ‘I see Riley’s still listening to the same song.’

‘That’s the sixth time since she came home from school. She’s in a foul mood. I’m making her chocolate pancakes to try to cheer her up.’

‘You’re so good.’ Mia went over and put her arms around her husband.

‘Well, thanks. You’re not too bad yourself.’

Mia pulled back from the embrace. She took off her jacket and hung it over the back of the couch where the fabric had split. She sat back, untucking her shirt and kicking off her shoes. ‘I was watching Sarah with Izzy. They’re so close. I miss that with Riley.’