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said. Suddenly it felt like old times. I glanced at Caz, wondering if she felt the same. Could we possibly reclaim our past after all?
    ‘So, are we still having fun?’ Dorrie had gathered us all, like the mother hen she was, and insisted we wait out a spring shower in a café crowded with families: small children darted here and there, toddlers screamed and were pacified with soothers and bottles. I had a pang of longing for my own family, at home without me. I knew the boys would love Euro Disney. I had a sudden fantasy of Steve and me finally sorting out our problems and coming here for a family celebration. Then dismissed it. That was never going to happen.
    The café staff were evidently overrun, as the place was overflowing with plastic cups and plates which hadn’t been cleared away. I was beginning to get a headache, not helped by the endlessly cheery music. I’d only been here a day and already I was fed up with the place, longing to have a hot drink out of a proper mug, rather than a Styrofoam cup. And really, if I were being honest, I wanted to be at home with the children.
    ‘Yes, Auntie Dorrie,’ grinned Caz. ‘Honestly, we’re notyour children, and we’re not Darren. You can talk to us like normal human beings, you know.’
    ‘Sorry,’ Dorrie looked shamefaced. ‘I don’t mean to go on, but you know how much I love everything Disney and I just want everyone to have a good time.’
    ‘It’s great,’ I assured her, lying through my teeth. The only other people apart from Dorrie who could have dragged me here were the children – I felt the familiar tug of my heart, the boys would have had a blast here. I’d have to promise them I’d take them to make up for leaving them behind for the weekend.
    ‘Good,’ beamed Doris. She was always happier when other people were happy. ‘So what do you all want to do tonight?’
    ‘Any chance we can escape into Paris?’ Caz said hopefully. ‘I know some great cafés in Montmartre.’
    ‘Caz, even you must know that’s not an option,’ laughed Beth. ‘I’m sure Dorrie is just being polite. What do you want to do tonight, Dorrie? After all, this is your weekend.’
    ‘Well, there’s a Wild West show in Disney Village,’ said Dorrie.
    Caz groaned. ‘You are so not going to make us go to that, are you?’ she said. ‘It’s bound to be full of screaming five-year-olds.’
    ‘And what’s wrong with five-year-olds?’ I snapped, my longing to see the children leaving me slightly oversensitive. Beth shushed me, clearly not wanting to get in a row, but Caz just rolled her eyes.
    ‘We’ll go to the later version,’ said Dorrie, ‘and I promise there’ll be drink. And Sarah, no more texting.’
    ‘Sorry,’ I said. I’d been surreptitiously texting Steve on and off all day to see how he was getting on. This was thefirst time I’d ever been away from the kids for any length of time and I was missing them badly. I wasn’t, oddly enough, missing Steve. It was peculiarly restful not having to think about Steve, or us, or what I was going to do about the monumental mess my life was in.
    ‘So it’s agreed, then?’ said Doris. ‘Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show and then we can probably still have time to see the fireworks before the evening ends.’
    A couple of hours later we were all sitting in hysterics around a barbecue as we watched a spectacular show. It started with two cowboys in a mock brawl, which was so convincing we nearly moved tables as they came crashing towards us. They moved on then to have fun with a bucking bronco, and on discovering it was Dorrie’s hen weekend, they insisted she had a go, much to her delight. The show wrapped up with songs from Annie Get Your Gun and Oklahoma! . It wasn’t what I’d have chosen to see, and despite my slight thawing earlier on, I’d still have preferred to have spent the evening without Caz, but I had had enough beer to begin to relax and enjoy myself.
    At least Doris had let us give up our