‘They’re up north. My sister is in Aberdeen and my parents are in Brora, which is even further away. I could have moved back, but the girls are in school here and it seems better to stay so they still have their friends. My wife’s family are in France.’

Stan reaches for the bread basket and offers it to the girls. ‘What is it you do, Benjamin?’

‘Call me Ben, please.’ He studies his hands. ‘I’m a cleaner. I used to work night shifts in a warehouse, and Zoe worked in a shop. We never needed nurseries or childminders because we covered the girls between us and it all worked well until . . .’ He stops. ‘But after it all happened I couldn’t do nights any more, and it was obvious that working days and paying for childcare wasn’t going to work if I wanted to stay in Edinburgh because the rents are so high.’

Georgia is listening intently, nodding with each painful revelation.

‘So I set up a business doing things for older people. Folk who need a bit more than just the vacuum cleaner being pushed around. They might need sheets changed, duvet covers put on, lightbulbs replaced, meters read, lemons sliced. Anything that is high up or tricky if your hands or your legs don’t work as well as they used to. I do it in school hours and I go in at weekends as well if there’s a problem, and I take the girls with me, when it’s allowed.’ He smiles. ‘My customers love to see them and they’ve really missed them when we haven’t been able to visit, but kids are germ magnets and it’s not worth the risk.’

Tess takes a sip of elderflower cordial. ‘I used to do something similar, a long time ago. That’s how I met Fiona. I would be at her flat when her supermarket deliveries came, and put all the groceries away for her, renew library books, that sort of thing.’

‘Exactly! You’ll understand then.’ He shrugs. ‘Unfortunately, I set the business up the year before the pandemic, and I hadn’t submitted any tax returns because they weren’t due, so I wasn’t eligible for government support. I ended up on benefits.’

‘Nothing wrong with that, young man,’ says Stan. ‘We pay our taxes to look after the community, not to look after ourselves.’

Tess looks across at Georgia. ‘Would you like to explain the rules?’

‘No, it’s fine, you go ahead. Perhaps the girls would like to have another look at where they might be living?’

He nods. ‘Off you go, you two.’ The girls don’t need to be asked twice. ‘And . . .’

‘We know, Daddy,’ says Joanna.

Tess waits until the children have gone back into the house. ‘Assuming you’re interested in living here . . .’

‘I am. I mean yes, we are.’