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“Annoying,” echoed her mother, looking faintly amused.

“Annoying,” Hope said with a finality that suddenly she didn’t quite feel.

She was saved from further questioning by the ringing of her phone. She saw Noah’s name on the screen and picked it up immediately. Alice was with him this afternoon and she just prayed that nothing had gone wrong.

“Is she okay?” she barked into the phone.

“What? Who?” asked Noah.

“Your daughter,” spat Hope.

Noah laughed. “Alice is fine. We’re at the park. She’s racing Amelia on her new bike.”

“You got her a new bike?” Hope felt anger boiling up in her stomach. “I thought that was going to be a Christmas present.”

“It’s ages until Christmas,” Noah said. “And besides, she won’t be able to go out on it in the winter, will she? It’s better now so that she can get some use out of it.”

Hope bit her lip. Alice was an only child. It was important to her that her daughter didn’t grow up spoiled. And it was important that Noah didn’t try to buy his daughter’s affection with pricey gifts.

“And that’s not why I called,” Noah went on.

“It’s not?” Hope asked, wanting to bring up the bike again but really not wanting to fight over the phone. She’d talk about it with him when he brought Alice home, she promised herself.

“It’s not,” Noah confirmed.

“What is it then?” Hope got up and left her mother to shell peas in peace. She went into the living room and sat down, propping her feet up on the coffee table.

“It’s about what we were talking about the other day in the garden.”

Hope felt the anger again, bubbling up inside her. “I said all I had to say.”

“I didn’t,” Noah said firmly. “I meant what I said, Hope. I want to be involved in Alice’s life. She’s my daughter as well as yours.”

“What exactly is it that you want, Noah? An extra weekend a month? An extra week during the summer holidays?” Hope was tired of this. She didn’t want to argue. She didn’t want to bargain and negotiate with Noah.

“I want half custody,” said Noah, loudly and clearly. “Fifty-fifty.”

Hope laughed, unable to help herself. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. I’d prefer to settle this amicably, Hope. I really would. I don’t want to involve lawyers and the like. I think you and I can work this out. But I’m serious about wanting Alice with me half the time.”

Hope opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“I’ll give you a bit of time to think about it,” Noah’s voice crackled over the phone. “But I’m not letting this one go.”

Then he was gone and Hope was left, tears welling up in her eyes, wondering just what she was supposed to do now. Living without Alice half the time was unthinkable. She couldn’t imagine Alice not being there every morning when she woke up.

THE CHILDREN WERE sitting cross-legged on the carpet, faces rapt as Ava finished the day’s chapter of James and the Giant Peach. Hope sat quietly at the back, watching Ava’s face as she read.

Contrary to every expectation that Hope had had, Ava had proven herself to be a more than fitting teacher for the upper infants class.

Sure, she might be trained better for older kids. But now that she’d got her feet, Hope could see that Ava was truly gifted at this. Gifted in a way that only the best teachers were. She had empathy and control, she was firm but fair, she reveled in teaching new skills and information. And it didn’t matter how old her students were, they saw her true interest, her passion for what she did, and responded to it.

All of which was to say that whilst Ava certainly had hiccups every now and again, such as when she sent Sara Gonzalez alone to the toilet and didn’t check on her before the kid had blocked the sink and flooded the bathroom, she was far from a terrible teacher.

In fact, Hope was starting to think that Alice might actually be lucky to have Ms. Stanford as her class teacher.

The children groaned.