When everyone was installed in the minibus, sticks and walking aids to hand, Gilly turned round from her seat in the front next to William. ‘I feel like a proper tour guide. If I start holding up a rolled-up umbrella, talk me down gently.’

‘You carry on, darling,’ said Daphne. ‘We are as eager to follow you as a playground full of children after an ice-cream van.’

‘That’s a rather energetic analogy,’ said Mary, more thoughtfully. ‘But I like it.’

‘If everyone’s strapped in,’ said William, ‘we can go.’

Their first visit was to a little church which was not only historic but quite near a garden centre. Everyone loved a garden centre, especially one that had a huge outlet section.

Gilly had chosen the church for its history – it was a plague church, built a little way away from the village, but also because it wasn’t huge – it wouldn’t tire the old ladies too much.

‘Don’t come in with us,’ said Daphne firmly. ‘If you do we’ll feel obliged to look at everything and contribute generously to the upkeep of the building. You stay here and keep William company.’

‘I was looking forward to coming in,’ objected William. ‘I like old churches.’

‘So do I,’ said Gilly. ‘I picked this one particularly because it has high ratings on TripAdvisor.’

‘TripAdvisor!’ said Daphne, turning away from the minibus. ‘Pah!’

‘I do feel like that about TripAdvisor myself, sometimes,’ Gilly confided when she and William had got everyone safely into the church. ‘Shall we defy Daphne and go in?’

‘We could, but on second thoughts it might also be nice to go back to the minibus and sit quietly.’ He took her arm and they set off back in blissful silence.

Gilly and William sat in the minibus and said nothing until the ladies returned. It was indeed peaceful. As she and William assisted the aunts back into the minibus the thought flicked through her mind that being with Leo was always exciting. He liked to talk and talked well. Perhaps that was why she found him so attractive. Being with William was quite a different experience. She found herself enjoying the contrast.

As she predicted (only to herself) the ladies loved the garden centre and came back to the minibus laden with carrier bags.

‘We’ve all bought these super-comfy shoes,’ declared Daphne. ‘Mine are bright pink.’

‘It’s one of the joys of growing old,’ said Mary, having displayed her blue pair, ‘that you don’t care what you look like.’ She paused. ‘I don’t mean that exactly, but if it’s a choice between comfort and glamour I choose comfort every time.’