Samantha: Parents do tend to judge each other. I don’t know why. Maybe because none of us really know what we’re doing? And I guess that can sometimes lead to conflict. Just not normally on this sort of scale.

Jackie: I, for one, don’t have the time to be judging other parents. Or the interest. My children are only one part of my life.

Detective-Sergeant Adrian Quinlan: In addition to the murder investigation, we expect to be charging multiple parents with assault. We’re deeply disappointed and quite shocked to see a group of parents behaving this way.

19.

Oh, Madeline,” sighed Ed.

He parked the car, pulled the keys from the ignition and turned to look at her. “You can’t make Chloe miss her friend’s party just because Ziggy isn’t invited. That’s crazy.”

They’d driven straight from the school down to the beach to have a quick coffee at Blue Blues with Jane and her parents. It had been Jane’s mother who had suggested it, and it had seemed so important to her that Madeline, who had an overly ambitious list of things to achieve on the kids’ first day at school, felt she couldn’t say no.

“No it’s not,” said Madeline, although she was already feeling the first twinges of regret. When Chloe heard she was missing Amabella’s A party there would be hell to pay. Amabella’s last birthday party had been insane: jumping castle, a magician and a disco.

“I’m in a very bad mood today,” she told Ed.

“Really?” said Ed. “I would never have noticed.”

“I miss the children,” said Madeline. The backseat of the car felt so empty and silent. Her eyes filled with tears.

Ed guffawed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“My baby has started school,” wept Madeline. Chloe had marched straight into the classroom, walking right alongside Miss Barnes, as if she were a fellow teacher, chatting the whole way, probably making a few suggestions for changes to the curriculum.

“Yep,” said Ed. “And not a moment too soon. I think those were the words you used yesterday on the phone to your mother.”

“And I had to stand there in the school yard, making polite conversation with my ex-bloody-husband!” Madeline’s mood flipped from teary back to angry.

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’d use the word polite,” said Ed.

“It’s hard enough being a single mother,” said Madeline.

“Um. What?” said Ed.

“Jane! I’m talking about Jane, of course. I remember Abigail’s first day of school. I felt like a freak. It felt like everyone was so disgustingly married. All the parents were in perfect little pairs. I never felt so alone.” Madeline thought of her ex-husband today, looking comfortably about the school yard. Nathan had no clue as to what it had been like for Madeline for all those years she’d brought Abigail up on her own. He wouldn’t deny it. Oh no. If she were to scream at him, “It was hard! It was so hard!” he’d wince and look so sad and so sorry, but no matter how hard he tried, he would never really get it.

She was filled with impotent rage. There was nowhere to aim it except straight at Renata. “So just imagine how Jane feels when her child is the only one not invited to a party. Imagine it.”

“I know,” said Ed. “Although I guess after what happened, you can sort of see it from Renata’s point of view—”

“No you can’t!” cried Madeline.

“Jesus. Sorry. No. Of course I can’t.” Ed looked in the rearview mirror. “Oh, look, here’s your poor little friend pulled up behind us. Let’s go eat cake with her. That will fix things.”

He undid his seat belt.

“If you’re not asking every child in the class, you don’t hand out the invitations on the playground,” said Madeline. “Every mother knows that. It’s a law of the land.”

“I could talk about this subject all day long,” said Ed. “I really could. There is nothing else I want to talk about today other than Amabella’s fifth-birthday party.”

“Shut up,” said Madeline.

“I thought we didn’t say ‘shut up’ in our house.”

“Fuck off, then,” said Madeline.

Ed grinned. He put a hand to the side of her face. “You’ll feel better tomorrow. You always feel better tomorrow.”

“I know, I know.” Madeline took a deep breath and opened the car door to see Jane’s mother fling herself out of Jane’s car and hurry along the sidewalk toward her, slinging her handbag over her shoulder and smiling frantically. “Hi! Hi there! Madeline, will you just walk along the beach with me for a bit while the others order our coffee?”

“Mum.” Jane walked behind with her father. “You’ve seen the beach. You don’t even like the beach!”

You didn’t have to be gifted and talented to see that Jane’s mother wanted to talk alone with Madeline.

“Of course I will . . . Di.” The name came to her like a gift.

“I’ll come too then,” sighed Jane.

“No, no, you go into the café and help your dad get settled and order something nice for me,” said Di.

“Yes, because I’m such a doddering old senior citizen.” Jane’s father put on a quavering old man’s voice and clutched Jane’s arm. “Help me, darling daughter.”

“Off you go,” said Di firmly.