Finlay’s head snapped around to look at his father. He ignored Ursula completely. ‘I have choir after school, I won’t be back in time.’

‘You don’t yet know what time you will be needed,’ Ursula pointed out. ‘And I will write to the choirmaster and explain the circumstances. And if a letter from me is insufficient, your father will write one as well.’

‘He won’t let me off attending if I am going to the theatre instead,’ protested Finlay. ‘We are rehearsing for the end-of-term concert.’

‘Then I won’t tell him. I will simply say that due to illness, you are needed at home.’

‘You’re going to lie?’

‘No. It’s the truth. You are needed to look after your sister.’

‘Look after me?’ It was Ann’s turn to protest. ‘I’m thirteen years old, I don’t need anyone to look after me.’

John looked from one face to the other. He took a sip of water and spoke, very quietly, so they had to come closer to the bed to hear what he was saying. ‘Very well, we shall return the tickets to the box office and the whole outing will be cancelled.’

‘That’s not fair!’ Ann exclaimed. She glowered at Finlay. ‘This is your fault. I’m going to school now. I suppose I am still allowed to do that by myself?’ She stomped out of the room.

‘I was joking,’ said Finlay, raising his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug.

John beckoned him closer, so Finlay would be able to hear him. ‘It didn’t sound like it. But the ball, as they say, is now in your court, son.’

‘Oh alright,’ replied Finlay, dragging out the syllables. He looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘If you can dash me off a note I will take it in tomorrow. I can’t wait for it now, I’m already late.’ He left the room, clearly feeling as though he had been hoodwinked into something he didn’t want to be any part of.

‘That went well!’ Ursula could not remain quiet, and her voice shook.

John smiled at her and responded, his voice creaking and almost vanishing in places. ‘Ssssshhhh. It went exactly as I thought it would. Finlay hates choir so he will be glad of the excuse, and Ann will be grateful to be able to go on the outing. I think it’s a good result.’

There was a tap at the bedroom door and Isobel entered carrying a tray with a teapot on it, and a slice of toast on a side plate.

‘Toast water,’ she announced. ‘It cures everything. And it’s better when freshly made.’ She put the tray down on the dressing table.

‘Toast water?’ mouthed John to Ursula, but Isobel was too quick and she saw him.