‘Hmm,’ she said glumly, ‘the last time we talked about it he said he didn’t want to see a constant, ever-changing stream of kids come through our house, and also that he thought that fostering wasn’t for me.’

‘Why not?’

‘He thinks I’ll get too attached.’ I heard the note of doubt in my sister’s voice. Not easy given that Harvey was recreating the show Stomp that we’d seen last year with our saucepans and a ladle. ‘That when it’s time for the children to leave our house, I’ll get upset. He said that I’d feel the loss too deeply.’

I bit my lip; Darren might have a good point there. I looked across to Harvey who was now dropping bananas into the smoothie maker. I thought about going into the bedroom so I could continue our conversation in peace, but he’d probably accuse me of keeping secrets from him or something silly.

‘Anyway,’ she said brightly, ‘for now, I’m keeping my fingers crossed. It’s so exciting, Lottie. Our little bedroom could have a child in it in only a few months. Imagine!’

Just then the harsh whirr of Harvey’s smoothie maker took over and neither of us could make ourselves heard. I promised to call her soon and finished the call.

‘What’s the latest?’ said Harvey a couple of minutes later, wiping a yellow banana-y moustache from his upper lip. I crossed the room to the sink, picked up a cloth, wiped up the milk he’d spilled and put his banana skins into the bin.

‘Evie’s applying for them to be foster carers.’

‘Jeez.’ Harvey pulled a face. ‘Has she lost the plot?’

‘I think she’ll be good at it,’ I replied defensively, although secretly I thought the same as Darren: that Evie would miss the children terribly when they left her, worrying about what was going to happen to them next.

He looked repulsed. ‘Who’d want to bring up somebody else’s kids?’

‘Luckily lots of people do,’ I said, hiding my shock at his heartlessness. ‘Although according to Evie not enough.’

‘Not surprised,’ he muttered. ‘I wouldn’t let strangers’ kids into my house. You don’t know what bad behaviour they might have picked up from their parents.’

‘They’re children, Harvey, who’ve probably had a difficult start in life,’ I said. I don’t know what made me say it, but suddenly I was fed up of his narrow-minded opinions. ‘It’s a lovely thing to do. I’d foster kids too if I couldn’t have any of my own.’

He choked on his smoothie. ‘You what?’

‘Why not?’ I shot him a cheeky smile as I whisked past him to take some turkey mince from the fridge but he tweaked my ponytail and stopped me in my tracks.

‘Harvey!’ I said, half-laughing. ‘Let me go, I was only teasing.’