Gilly moved the kettle across to the hot part of the range. ‘It’s nice to see someone eat. The last time I offered Cressida a biscuit she looked as if I’d handed her a dog turd on a doily.’

Helena assessed her mother’s mood. Personally, she was always up for a bitch about her sister-in-law but her mother was generally more loyal. Gilly didn’t seem to want to go on about her son’s model-like wife, or ‘waif’ as Helena privately – and guiltily – called her. ‘Why did you mention her?’ she said, taking another crumbling mouthful and sitting down.

‘She’s just phoned. She wants us to go to them for Sunday lunch. That’s nice, isn’t it?’

Helena thought her mother sounded rather desperate, so she nodded in what she hoped was a neutral way. ‘It’s been a while. We can take sandwiches in the car for afterwards.’

Her mother laughed. ‘Helena! I know she’s not exactly a lavish hostess but you never leave the house hungry.’

‘I’m sure we get exactly the right amount of calories required for a light lunch and there’s always plenty of delicious kale to fill up on. But we never leave thinking, that was a lovely meal, do we?’ Helena had given up trying not to let her feelings for her sister-in-law show. ‘Whenever I see Cressida – the sky will fall in if anyone called her “Cress” – with her over-toned arms and perfect fake tan, I want to tell her to put on a cardi and eat a scone!

‘But, Mum! I have news – sort of.’

‘Really darling? Shall I make tea? Did you have lunch?’

‘Yes please to tea,’ said Helena, anticipating her mother’s excitement. ‘But no to lunch. I had an enormous ham and cheese sandwich on toasted sourdough and it was delicious!’

When Gilly had put the kettle on she sat down opposite Helena. ‘So tell me your news?’

A huge fluffy ginger cat, apparently just as keen for information, landed on Helena’s lap like a fur-covered sandbag. Automatically, Helena started stroking it. ‘Well, I had to rescue a kitten from a very narrow space, with a ladder, for my landlord. A kitten about a tenth the size of you, Ulysses.’

‘But darling! You’re claustrophobic!’ Gilly moved the shortbread out of reach of cat hairs.

‘I know! I was sort of hoping I’d grown out of it, but it was like a grave down there, surrounded by soil. It was heaped up and could have smothered the kitten and me at any moment.’ Thinking back to being in that space made Helena feel shaky all over again. She broke off a bit of a biscuit that was quite good enough to go into the guest bedrooms.

Gilly frowned. ‘This is the landlord that is imminently going to make you homeless?’