‘Mum?’

‘Are you all right, love? You look terribly pale.’ Her mum dropped the trimmed sprout into the colander and placed the knife on the edge of the sink. She wiped her hands on her apron and pressed the back of her hand to Lou’s forehead. Her skin was cool from holding it beneath the running tap. ‘No temperature, you’ll live.’

‘Mum … oh my God, Mum!’ Lou cried.

‘Here, sit down before you fall down.’ Her mum pulled out a chair and helped Lou sit, but no sooner was she in the chair than she was up again, her arms around her mum.

‘I’ve missed you so much. I can’t … I just can’t …’

‘I’ve missed you too. But it’s only been a week, love.’

‘Oh, Mum, it’s you. It’s really you.’ Lou cried and laughed at the same time. She kissed her mum’s cheeks, touched her warm face and felt her soft hair, freshly washed and straightened.

‘Who else were you expecting to find in the kitchen? Dean?’ Mum laughed. ‘That boy could burn an ice lolly. Speak of the devil.’

‘Ding Dong Merrily and all that.’ Dean barged into the kitchen wearing a jumper decorated with a giant cartoon reindeer. ‘I come bearing gifts for the two ladies in my life.’

He dumped two badly wrapped presents on the table. Shower gel. It was always shower gel; peach for Lou and white musk for Mum. Lou laughed, a laugh verging on hysteria. ‘It’s Christmas morning again!’ she said.

Dean eyed her like he would Mad Minnie, the old lady who liked to tap dance around the drained fountain in The Arc.

‘Get your sister a brandy,’ Mum said. ‘She’s a bit under the weather.’

‘Can I have one?’ Dean asked.

‘Just a small one. And only because it’s Christmas.’

‘But, Muuum,’ he whined, ‘I’ll be eighteen next year.’

‘Then next year, you can have a large one. Your sister needs it for medicinal reasons.’ She placed the back of her hand on Lou’s forehead again. ‘Are you sure you’re not sickening for something?’

Was she? Lou thought. Caught up in the unreality of this moment, the events of the previous week and of last night had momentarily slipped her mind. They came rushing back with the full force of a runaway train. She collapsed into the chair.

‘Hurry up with that brandy, Dean,’ Mum said. She sat beside Lou and stared at her. ‘You can’t hide anything from me, sweetheart. Have you had a falling out with Katie? Is that it?’ Her voice was so full of concern that Lou wanted to cry. She could never explain what had happened, what was still happening.

At the sound of a key turning in the front door, Mum looked up. ‘We’re in the kitchen,’ she called.

Stephen burst in wearing a Santa hat, his ex-fiancée, Rebecca, by his side. ‘Aye, Aye, fishy pie!’ he said, ‘Merry Christmas one and all!’ He dropped a bag of gifts on the table and kissed the top of Mum’s head.