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office door. She took a deep breath and went back in to see Tess Andrew.

Three
    F or twenty minutes Sophie sat and listened to Tess talking about words and procedures she had never thought would be part of her life, let alone her day-to-day vocabulary. Tess explained that she would be granted an interim residency order immediately and with it full parental responsibility.
    “Technically,” she told Sophie, “you have it anyway as legal guardian, but because of the unusual circumstances of this case, I think it’s important to keep you and the girls under supervision. You’ll have me for guidance and support until thing are ‘firmed up.’”
    Sophie narrowed her eyes imperceptibly. “Yes, but it is only a temporary arrangement, isn’t it?” she reminded Tess. “This all seems a bit over the top for a couple of weeks.”
    “Not at all,” Tess said. “It’s standard procedure with a supervision order—a one-size-fits-all policy, I’m afraid, but generally it works very well.” She beamed at Sophie. “Now, we have got the girls down for counseling, but—”
    “Counseling?” Sophie picked up on one of the stream of words. “Are they—I mean, are the girls traumatized in a—you know—bad way?”
    “As opposed to a good way?” Tess asked, looking slightly perplexed.
    “There’s no need to look at me like that!” Sophie retorted, fully aware that, to be fair, Tess had at that very moment been looking at her notebook. “Look, I don’t have much—any—experience with children, except for my own childhood, and that was…unusual. My mother didn’t raise me, a chocolate Labrador called Muffin did.” Tess raised an eyebrow. “Okay, so that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but in any case I don’t have much to go on. I don’t know any children. I have no idea what to say to happy, normal children, let alone ones whose mum had died and whose dad has deserted them!” Sophie caught her rising tone and forcibly lowered her voice. “What I’m saying is, if they need expert help, I’m not the one to give it.”
    Tess paused for a moment just to check that Sophie had nothing further to add. “Counseling is a standard procedure that is available to the children if need be,” she said. She thought for a moment. “I have only known them for a little while, but I can tell you that Bella is a very self-contained and mature little girl. She never talks about Carrie at all. I think it’s a coping strategy. I think she feels she has to hold it together for Izzy’s sake. And Izzy? Well, Izzy is a typical three-year-old, although obviously the crash has left her rather unsure of cars. She prefers not to travel in one. And as in any event as you are only having them temporarily, I don’t think you have to worry about their deeper issues. Just a familiar face, someone who knew their mother, will help them. Someone to take their minds off things—that would mean a lot right now.”
    “But I’m not a familiar face,” Sophie said. “I haven’t seen them in years.”
    Tess smiled. “But they’ve seen you. Carrie kept a photo of you and her together—at your high school graduation party, Bella told me. You’ve got different hair, different clothes—but apart from that, you look the same.” Tess slotted in the compliment with professional discreetness. “The girls brought it with them from the house. They know who you are. They talk about you. Apparently you always get them the best presents.”
    Sophie looked out her window over Finsbury Circus and watched a woman more or less her age, with more or less her build and probably more or less her life, walk across the concourse wrapped up against the cold in a swath of cashmere. Suddenly she wished she could swap lives with the wonderfully free woman and in the same moment remembered with pressing urgency that she had being trying to find time to make a trip to the ladies’ room all morning. Now she really needed to go.
    “Okay,” Sophie said briskly as