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problem.’
    ‘Sorry?’ I put down my cup, gaping at this unfairness. ‘A problem? Poppy?’
    ‘And I don’t want to suggest you are over-protective.’
    Then she had the nerve to smile.
    What a gross simplification! ‘Even if I am over-protective, you have to admit this is hard for Poppy. She and Scarlett have been best friends ever since they could walk. And now here comes Harriet Birch and all of a sudden Poppy is treated with less sensitivity than you’d use on an old handbag.’
    Martha leaned forward and said gently, ‘Hang on, Jennie, you mustn’t evade the real issue here.’
    ‘If you know what the real issue is, maybe you could enlighten me.’
    ‘The real issue is that Scarlett has been carrying Poppy for years and she’s just got tired of it.’
    Jesus! I couldn’t believe it. Martha, renowned for her bluntness, had cracked my heart so hard it took all I had to draw breath. I lowered my face as if I’d been slapped. I was pink with indignation because deep inside I knew what she meant, but couldn’t bear the way she had said it. This was my child we were discussing, my vulnerable, frightened, unhappy daughter, and I expected more from Martha than this. I thought guiltily back to the times we had said:
    ‘Go with Scarlett, Poppy, she’ll take you…’
    ‘Keep your eye on Poppy, she’s frightened of dogs…’
    ‘Tell Scarlett if those kids start on you. She’ll sort them out, she’ll see them off…’
    Both of us had understood that Scarlett, as Martha’s child, was more confident than mine and might enjoy the role of keeper.
    But Scarlett had never complained.
    Not until now.
    In fact she seemed to enjoy the part of defender of the weak. She took it upon herself naturally. Nobody forced her, or put her under pressure.
    Then Martha said, ‘I think we have been expecting too much from Scarlett lately. There’s exams coming up and a change of school. She’s only ten after all.’
    This was outrageous. I blinked hard and fast. ‘So is Poppy. And I notice you don’t seem interested to hear the details of what’s been happening. They have been very cruel, you know.’
    My best friend sighed again. ‘Children are, I’m afraid. Shit, you of all people know that, Jennie.’ This was disloyalty in the extreme.
    I was going to tell her anyway, whether she wanted to hear or not. ‘They’ve been ganging up on her, picking on her. Hiding her books and throwing apples, making sure she’s chosen last when teams are being selected, whispering in the playground, and I heard there was some money missing…’
    ‘Yes,’ said Martha. ‘I know about that. Poppy accused Scarlett of stealing. She sneaked off and told Mrs Forest that she’d seen Scarlett and Harriet take the money from a gym bag in the cloakroom. It turned out to be lies – just a pack of lies.’
    By now I was shaking with rage and shock. I had never liked Harriet Birch, a sly and cunning child. I felt so hurt. So betrayed. ‘Poppy did see them take that money.’ What I hated most was that Martha seemed pleased that all this had come out in the open.
    Martha said briskly, ‘And you are so unconditionally uncritical that you honestly believe her?’
    It struck me then that Poppy, holed up like an animal in her room, had no circle of friends, unlike Scarlett. Friends who might back her story. Friends to walk round with during break. Take Scarlett away and Poppy was all on her own. Is this why I felt so protective towards her, is this why I had to fight so hard? Remembering how it was with me when I was Poppy’s age?
    And frightened.
    And alone.
    And then Martha said, ‘Look, calm down, Jennie. You’ve come here to talk, so let’s do that. We can’t get anywhere while you’re behaving as though Scarlett has committed mass murder.’
    Huh. The flippancy I so admired before disgusted me then. I didn’t need Martha. I didn’t need anyone. I got up and stiffly left her house, drained and exhausted.
    Oh yes, ours was an uneasy