“Are you sure there is no other way to do this?” she said.

“I was thinking I could try to redirect the domain name,” said Nathan, “but then I still need to log in to her account. The world revolves around log-ins. I guess some IT genius might be able to hack into the site, it’s just a Google-hosting account, but that would take time. We’ll get it down eventually, but obviously the fastest way is for her to do it herself.”

“Yes,” said Madeline. She’d already pulled her car keys from her bag. “I’m going to get her out of school early.”

“You, I mean, we, we just have to tell her to take it down.” Madeline could hear the keyboard clattering as he tried the different passwords. “We’re her parents. We have to tell her there will be, er, consequences if she doesn’t listen to us.”

It was sort of hilarious hearing Nathan using modern parenting terminology like “consequences.”

“Right, and that’s going to be so easy,” said Madeline. “She’s fourteen, she thinks she’s saving the world and she’s as stubborn as a mule.”

“We’ll tell her she’s grounded!” said Nathan excitedly, obviously remembering that’s what parents did to teenagers on American sitcoms.

“She’d love that. She’ll see herself as a martyr to the cause.”

“But I mean, for God’s sake, surely she’s not serious,” said Nathan. “She’s not really planning to actually go through with this. To have sex with some stranger? I just can’t . . . She’s never even had a boyfriend, has she?”

“As far as I know, she hasn’t even kissed a boy,” said Madeline, and she wanted to cry, because she knew exactly what Abigail would say in response to that: Those little girls haven’t kissed any boys either.

She squeezed the keys tight in her hand. “I’d better rush. I’ve only just got time before I pick up the little kids.”

She remembered then that Perry had called earlier to ask if she’d pick up the twins because Celeste was sick. Her left eyelid began to twitch.

“Madeline,” said Nathan, “don’t yell at her, will you? Because—”

“Are you kidding? Of course I’m going to yell at her!” yelled Madeline. “She’s selling her virginity on the Internet!”

61.

Jane drove Ziggy up to the school after their morning tea at Blue Blues.

“Will you tell Max to stop hurting Amabella?” he said to her as she parked the car.

“A grown-up will talk to him,” said Jane as she turned the key in the ignition. “Probably not me. Maybe Miss Barnes.”

She was trying to work out the best way to handle this. Should she march straight into the principal’s office right this minute? She’d prefer to speak with Miss Barnes, who would be more likely to believe that this wasn’t a case of Ziggy simply deflecting the blame by pointing the finger at someone else. Also, Miss Barnes knew that Jane and Celeste were friends. She would know this was potentially awkward.

But Miss Barnes was teaching right now. She couldn’t drag her out of the classroom. She would have to e-mail her and ask her to call.

But she wanted to tell someone now. Perhaps she should go straight to Mrs. Lipmann?

It wasn’t like Amabella was in mortal danger. Apparently the teacher’s aide never took her eyes off her. Jane’s impatience simply reflected her own desire to tattle. It wasn’t my son! It was her son!

And what about poor Celeste? Should she call her first and warn her? Was that what a good friend would do? Maybe it was. There was something awful and underhanded about going behind her back. She couldn’t bear it if this affected their friendship.

“Come on, Mummy,” said Ziggy impatiently. “Why are you just sitting there staring at nothing?”

Jane undid her seat belt and turned around to face Ziggy. “You did the right thing telling me about Max, Ziggy.”

“I didn’t tell you!” Ziggy, who had already unbuckled his belt and had his hand on the car-door handle ready to jump out, flung himself back around to face her. He was outraged, horrified.

“Sorry, sorry!” said Jane. “No, of course you didn’t tell me. Definitely not.”

“Because I promised Amabella I would never ever tell anyone.” Ziggy pushed his body between the driver’s seat and the passenger seat so his anxious little face was right next to hers. She could see a smear of sticky sauce above his lip from Tom’s pancakes.

“That’s right. You kept your promise.” Jane licked her finger and tried to use it to clean his face.

“I kept my promise.” Ziggy ducked away from her finger. “I’m good at keeping promises.”

“So you remember at the orientation day?” Jane gave up on cleaning his face. “When Amabella said that it was you who hurt her? Why did Amabella say it was you?”

“Max said if she told on him he would do it again when no grown-ups were looking,” said Ziggy. “So Amabella pointed at me.” He shrugged impatiently, as if he were becoming bored with the whole subject. “She said sorry about that. I said it was OK.”

“You’re a very nice boy, Ziggy,” said Jane. And you’re not a psychopath! (Max is a psychopath.)

“Yup.”

“And I love you.”

“Can we go into school now?” Ziggy put his hand back on the car-door handle.