“It’s all right,” said Maggie. “Everything is running like clockwork thanks to you.”

She waved a sheet of paper in Alice’s face with a running sheet for the day and notations in her own handwriting that she didn’t remember writing. She could see she’d written, “STICK TO SCHEDULE!!” in full capitals and underlined it twice.

A disgusted expression crossed Maggie’s face. “Oh dear, your ex is here. What’s he doing here? Trying to look like an involved father, I suppose.”

Ex. At the word “ex” Alice immediately visualized her most recent exboyfriend before Nick. Peter Bourke. The patronizing one who broke her heart. But when she turned around, it was Nick coming through the marquee entrance, looking gorgeous in a blue shirt. She’d told him once he should always wear blue.

“I invited him,” she said to Maggie.

Maggie studied her. “Oh. Well, all right.”

“By the way, we’re assuming one of us should take over as MC?” said Nora. “We could say you haven’t been well. Of course, our resident troll, Mrs. H., would love to get her hands on the microphone and take credit for the whole event if we don’t stop her.”

“Microphone?” said Alice, confused.

Nora gestured toward a microphone on a stand in the center of the marquee.

Good lord. The idea had been for Alice to get up in front of all those people.

“Oh, no, absolutely not, I mean absolutely yes, one of you can do it,” she said.

“No problem,” said Nora. Her face became neutral as Nick reached them. “Hi, Nick.”

“Hi, Nora, Maggie. How are you both?” Nick nodded uncomfortably at the two women. It made Alice feel protective of him to see poor Nick in the unpopular ex-husband role. Just like she’d been the “cow” of an ex-wife with his sister at the Family Talent Night.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” said Nick, as Nora and Maggie disappeared into the crowd. “Did you get breakfast in bed?”

Alice nodded. “Pancakes. I think they started cooking them at five a.m. There were bangs and crashes and yells. You should see the kitchen now. But I have to say, the pancakes were outstanding. I think Madison is going to be a chef one day. A really messy, bossy, noisy one.”

“Sorry I wasn’t there to supervise,” said Nick. “Your first Mother’s Day without me.”

“Hopefully my last,” said Alice.

“Definitely,” said Nick. His eyes held hers. “I think definitely.”

“Well, well, well, what have we here, Barb? Methinks it’s our fine young salsa students!” Nick’s father and Alice’s mother were upon them. Roger clapped them on the shoulders car-salesman style, the familiar scent of his aftershave drifting across their faces like a filmy scarf, while Barb stood to the side, shiny with pride, as if Roger were once again performing a rather tricky feat.

“How are you, darling?” said Barb to Alice. “You look lovely, of course, but you’re so pale. And shadows under your eyes. There must be something going around at the moment, because Elisabeth is pea green.”

“Is Libby here?” said Alice with surprise.

“She’s there with Frannie,” said Barb, pointing up to one of the bench seats, where Elisabeth was sitting with Ben. She did look quite ill. Nausea. That must be a good sign. At least she wasn’t watching television.

Sitting next to Ben was Frannie, and next to her the white-haired man from the Family Talent Night who had organized the wheelchair races. Frannie was sitting very upright, glancing around self-consciously, but as Alice looked at her, the man said something in her ear and she clapped her hands together and burst out laughing.

“That’s Frannie’s gentleman friend,” said Barb. “Xavier. Isn’t it lovely! After all these years of holding a candle for her silly dead fiancé!”

“Her what?” said Alice. She pressed a fingertip to her forehead. She didn’t think her head could handle any fresh new surprises today.

“Her fiancé died just two weeks before their wedding. It wasn’t all that long before your father died,” said Barb calmly, as if this weren’t a huge revelation. “He went away with some mates on a camping trip and he broke his neck diving into a river. That’s why I was always telling you girls to never, ever dive anywhere without checking the depth.”

“Are you saying you knew about this all these years?” said Alice. She looked up at Frannie smiling at Xavier and tried to incorporate this sad new information about her grandmother. “And you kept it a secret?”

“No need to look so surprised,” said Barb crisply. “I can keep secrets. Frannie didn’t like to talk about it. She’s so private! She admitted to me once that she had kept on writing to him all these years, as if he was still away on holiday. She said she felt silly about it, because she knew perfectly well that he’d died, but that it was nice to keep writing to him. She’d seal the letters up and put them in a drawer. She told me she’d address them but she didn’t go so far as to waste her money putting stamps on them. So we agreed that proved she wasn’t completely deluded! It was just a funny little quirk of hers.”

“And you never said a word,” marveled Alice. The fact that her mother had kept a secret was more surprising than the secret itself.

“Although she has let the cat out of the bag now,” chortled Roger.

“Only because Frannie told me she intended to tell the girls now!” retorted Barb. “Apparently she started to tell you and Elisabeth the whole story just a few weeks ago, but then you had to go pick up the children.”

“I don’t remember,” said Alice. Her catchcry.

“Anyway, she’s finally found love again!” Barb sighed and shook her head regretfully. “If only it hadn’t taken so long!”

“She’s probably just fussy,” said Roger. “Needed to find the right fellow. Like you.”

“Oh, you!” said Barb flirtatiously, and she gleamed with happiness. “I was lucky to find you!”

“Dad was lucky to find you,” said Nick, suddenly serious. Alice’s mother looked up at him with surprise, her cheeks pink with pleasure. “Well, that’s a lovely thing to say, Nick.”

Maggie appeared again wearing a long apron that said Mega Meringue Day on the front, with a picture of a huge lemon meringue pie. Underneath it said, Mother’s Day, Sydney, 2008. She was holding another one for Alice.