‘Hi, mate,’ said Dan. ‘How’s school?’ Then he promptly cringed at his own remarks because: one, Ethan was not a ‘mate’ kind of person; and two, no kid ever liked being asked How’s school?, the most boring question in the world. ‘Are you working on a new sculpture at the moment?’ he added quickly, as if needing to prove that he had actually met his nephew before.

‘Nope. I’ve stopped going to the club.’ Ethan grabbed some cutlery from a drawer and began dumping it around the table.

‘Oh. That’s a shame,’ said Dan, straightening a fork. He vaguely remembered that Ethan had been overjoyed to be offered a place there – some edgy creative space in Wandsworth where they made all sorts of weird and wonderful artworks from wire and scrap metal and clay. ‘How come?’

‘I don’t think we need to go over this again,’ Zoe said, sweeping the chopped carrots into a pan of boiling water.

A muscle clenched in Ethan’s jaw and he banged down the last knife with such force that it spun in a circle. Then he stormed out of the room.

‘Good one,’ Zoe muttered, rolling her eyes.

‘Sorry,’ Dan said for what felt like the hundredth time since he’d arrived. ‘I didn’t realize.’

Zoe swung round, eyes glittering. ‘No, Dan, you didn’t, did you? You didn’t realize because you’ve no idea what’s been going on.’ She slammed a lid on the pan of carrots and the blue flame beneath it jerked and trembled in response. ‘Coming round here and bleating Sorry over and over again, like that’s going to change anything. Well, it’s not good enough. You’re too late!’

‘Sorry,’ he said before he could stop himself, then grimaced. ‘But, look, I do want to help. I—’

‘No, you look,’ she said, folding her arms across her chest, but then Bea was barrelling into the room once more, wailing this time.

‘He twisted my arm right behind my back. It hurts! I think it’s broken !’

Zoe became rigid, as if she was on the verge of shattering into pieces. ‘You want to help?’ she asked Dan, so fiercely it felt like an attack. ‘You really want to help?’

‘Yes, of course,’ he said. She was going to ask him to have a word with Gabe, he guessed. Or pour glasses of water to go with dinner. Or come back tomorrow and run the lawnmower around the garden, which was looking pretty unkempt.

‘Great,’ she said, her voice clipped. She held her hands up in the air, signalling surrender. ‘Then it’s all yours,’ she said. ‘Dinner, the kids – everything. I’m going out.’

‘What . . . where?’ Dan asked in surprise, but Zoe was already striding towards the door.

‘MUMMY!’ screamed Bea, racing after her. ‘Don’t go! Come back!’

‘What the hell . . . ?’ asked Ethan, as first his mother and then his sister charged past him.