Nina was laughing so much now that she fell forward and thumped her forehead on the table. The blow obviously caused her pain because she immediately straightened up, her only reaction to the blow being a silent, round-mouthed “Ow.”

Millie took in a deep breath to control herself. “Her name, Dad, is Miss Peacock, not Mrs. Partridge.”

Dan smacked his hand against his mouth. “It’s not.”

Millie nodded, then burst out laughing again.

“Oh, hell,” Dan said quietly.

“Have you always called her Mrs. Partridge, Dad?” Nina eventually managed to ask.

“Yes, I’m pretty sure I have,” Dan replied, looking as if he had just sucked on a sour lemon.

As the kitchen filled with laughter once more, the door opened and Jackie walked in. She surveyed the scene of conviviality as she shrugged off her raincoat. “My word,” she said flatly. “You all seem very happy this evening.”

“You’ll never guess what, Mum,” Nina said, using her mother’s entrance as a diversionary tactic to jettison the remainder of her rogan mush into the rubbish bin.

“No, I probably won’t,” Jackie replied distractedly as she walked across to the telephone to check the notepad for messages.

“Dad has been calling Miss Peacock, my music teacher, Mrs. Partridge.”

Jackie gave Nina a half-smile and ran a hand over her daughter’s long dark hair. “Sorry I didn’t make the concert, darling. I just couldn’t get away from work.”

The humorous twinkle vanished from Nina’s eyes. “That’s all right,” she replied quietly.

Millie pushed back her chair and got to her feet. “Can we go upstairs to watch television, Mum?”

“Sure you can.”

“Thanks. Come on, Ni.”

As the two girls left the kitchen, Jackie slumped down onto the chair that Millie had just vacated. Dan cleared the dirty plates off the table and carried them across to the sink.

“How’s your day been?” he asked, rinsing them off under the tap.

“Exhausting,” Jackie replied.

Dan took the containers from the oven and put them on the worktop. “I’m afraid we’re on takeaway tonight. I had a bit of a disaster with the loin of pork.”

Jackie held up a hand. “Thanks, but I really couldn’t eat a thing. I had a huge lunch.”

“Right.” He scrutinized the contents of the three containers. “Well, I don’t think I’ll risk giving it to the dogs,” he said, mainly for the benefit of himself. “That might just be tempting providence.” He discarded everything into the rubbish bin and rubbed his hands clean on a dishtowel. “Can I get you a glass of wine, then?”

Jackie shook her head. “No, don’t bother. I thought that I might just have a bath and go straight to bed.”

Dan sat down on the chair next to her. “So, how did you get on with the set designer?”

“Oh,” Jackie replied. “So you remembered.”