“Mum,” interrupted Jane. She walked into the kitchen and picked up Ziggy’s backpack where it lay on the floor. She held it upside down. Nothing fell out. “It’s fine, Mum. I know where to get the photos done.”

Her mother ignored her. “Bill! Listen to me! You said there was a website . . .” Her voice faded.

Jane walked into Ziggy’s bedroom, where he was sitting on the floor playing with his Legos. She lifted up his bedclothes and shook them.

“He’s going to e-mail you the details,” said her mother.

“Wonderful,” said Jane distractedly. “I’ve got to go, Mum. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She hung up. Her heart pounded. She pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead. No. Surely not. She could not have been so stupid.

Ziggy looked up at her curiously.

Jane said, “I think we’ve got a problem.”

• • •

There was silence when Madeline picked up the phone.

“Hello?” said Madeline again. “Who is it?”

She could hear someone crying and saying something incoherent.

“Jane?” Madeline suddenly recognized the voice. “What’s the matter? What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” said Jane. She sniffed. “Nobody died. It’s sort of funny, really. It’s hilarious that I’m crying over this.”

“What happened?”

“It’s just . . . Oh, what will those other mothers think of me now?” Jane’s voice quavered.

“Who cares what they think!” said Madeline.

“I care!” said Jane.

“Jane. Just tell me. What is it? What happened?”

“We’ve lost him,” sobbed Jane.

“Lost who? You’ve lost Ziggy?” Madeline felt the panic rise. She was obsessed with losing her own children, and quickly confirmed their respective locations: Chloe in bed, Fred doing his reading with Ed, Abigail staying at her dad’s place (yet again).

“We left him sitting on the seat. I remember actually thinking what a disaster it would be if we left him behind. I actually thought that, but then Josh got his nosebleed and we all got distracted. I’ve left a message on the lost-property number, but he wasn’t labeled or anything . . .”

“Jane. You’re not making any sense.”

“Harry the Hippo! We’ve lost Harry the Hippo!”

Thea: That’s the thing about these Gen Y kids. They’re careless. Harry the Hippo had been with the school for over ten years. That cheap synthetic toy she replaced it with smelled just terrible. Made in China. The hippo’s face wasn’t even friendly.

Harper: Look, it wasn’t so much that she lost Harry the Hippo, but that she put photos in the scrapbook of the little exclusive group who went to Disney On Ice. So all the kids get to see that, and the poor little tots are thinking, Why wasn’t I invited? As I said to Renata, that was just thoughtless.

Samantha: Yes, and you know what’s really shocking? Those were the last photos ever taken of Harry the Hippo. Harry the Heritage-Listed Hippo. Harry the . . . Sorry, it’s not funny. It’s not funny at all.

Gabrielle: Oh my God, the fuss when poor Jane lost the class toy, and everyone is pretending it’s not a big deal, but clearly it is a big deal, and I’m thinking, ‘Can you people get a life?’ Hey, do I look thinner than when we last met? I’ve lost three kilos.

24.

Two Months Before the Trivia Night

GOOOOO GREEEEEN!” cried Madeline as she sprayed green hair spray into Chloe’s hair for the athletics carnival.

Chloe and Fred were “Dolphins” and their house color was green, which was fortunate because Madeline looked good in green. When Abigail had been at her old primary school, her house color was unflattering yellow.

“That stuff is so bad for the ozone layer,” said Abigail.

“Really?” Madeline held the spray can aloft. “Didn’t we fix that?”

“Mum, you can’t fix the hole in the ozone layer!” Abigail rolled her eyes with contempt as she ate her homemade, preservative-free, flaxseed-and-whatever-the-hell-else-was-in-it muesli. These days whenever she came home from her father’s place, she got out of his car, weighed down with food, as if she’d been provisioned for a trip to the wilderness.

“I didn’t mean we fixed the whole ozone layer, I meant the thing with aerosol cans. The, umm, the something-or-others.” Madeline held up the hair-spray can and frowned at it, trying to read the writing on the side, but the type was too small. Madeline had once had a boyfriend who thought she was cute and stupid, and it was true, she was cute and stupid the whole time she was with him. Living with a teenage daughter was exactly the same.

“The CFCs,” said Ed. “Aerosol cans don’t have CFCs anymore.”

“Whatever,” said Abigail.

“The twins think their mum is going to win the mothers race today,” said Chloe as Madeline began to French-braid her green hair. “But I told them you were a trillion times faster.”

Madeline laughed. She couldn’t imagine Celeste running in a race. She’d probably run in the wrong direction, or not even notice the starter gun had gone off. She was always so distracted.

“Bonnie will probably win,” said Abigail. “She’s a really fast runner.”

“Bonnie?” said Madeline.

“Ahem,” warned Ed.

“What?” snapped Abigail. “Why shouldn’t she be fast?”