His wife, who was tall as well as thin, was dressed in black. Her hair was pulled back into a very tidy ponytail and she was wearing silver jewellery. Her make-up was pale and either didn’t include lipstick or she was using one the same shade as her foundation.

Her welcome was a bit more gushing than her husband’s. She smiled at Helena and kissed Gilly on both cheeks and patted her shoulder. The little girl, Ismene, who was five years old and serious, said, ‘Good morning, Grandma and Helena.’

Helena winced for her mother. Gilly was a devoted grandmother but she hated being called Grandma. However, in spite of her expressing her dislike of it when Ismene was tiny, Cressida had insisted this was how she was to be addressed. Cressida was big on proper names.

‘So, come along in,’ said Martin, ushering them through to the sitting room.

Although the room was cold, there was no fire in the super-modern fireplace. But even if the underfloor heating had been on, it would always be chilly. Helena felt it was something about the décor, which was white and mauve with black accents.

The look that Cressida gave Helena’s feet was clear – she wanted Helena to take off her shoes. Helena ignored the message. She was cold enough even though she had put on a warm cardigan before coming and she couldn’t cope with just socks. She wouldn’t have objected to being asked to remove her shoes had she been offered fluffy slippers to replace them but there was nothing fluffy in this house. She noticed that Cressida hadn’t given her mother the silent ‘take off your shoes’ message. Just for a moment Helena wished that one of them had stepped in dog poo.

‘Sherry, Martin!’ ordered Cressida crisply.

Helena refused sherry but noted that the fact it was offered meant it wasn’t just an ordinary lunch. She noticed her mother accepting, obviously needing alcoholic support.

‘Well, this is nice!’ said Gilly, halfway through her tiny glass. ‘When were we all together last?’

‘Christmas?’ suggested Helena. ‘Ismene has grown, anyway. Hey?’ She crouched down to address the little girl directly. ‘When you grow out of your shoes can I have them? They are so cool!’

Ismene frowned. ‘Don’t be silly, Aunt Helena, your feet are much bigger than mine.’

Helena looked down at her trainers. ‘Oh, so they are. What a shame.’

‘Ma,’ said Martin. ‘We want to ask you something.’

‘Wait until after lunch, Martin!’ said Cressida. ‘We discussed this!’

‘Maybe we’d better have lunch then, if it’s ready,’ said Gilly.

‘Have another glass of sherry first, Ma,’ said Martin.

‘Although lunch is ready,’ said Cressida. ‘It’s only soup and salad.’

‘I’d love another sherry, Martin,’ said Gilly.