‘You will not,’ she retorted. ‘You’ll eat in the kitchen, while I have mine in here, which I was going to do anyway in front of Gardeners’ World. Which I like to watch alone,’ she said very firmly. ‘No, actually, have it in the dining room, at the small round table in the window. Not the big one. Light the fire, Dan, and draw the curtains. And the candles are in the sideboard drawer in there.’

He laughed. ‘I don’t think we’ll do that. We’ll eat in here with you.’

Oh, right. I wasn’t sure about candles in the dining room either, but I could see that Nance very definitely wanted us to eat on our own and was not to be thwarted in her plans, so surely we could leave her and Monty Don to it and eat in the kitchen?

In the event, we all had trays on our laps in front of the TV. Dan nipped across to his mother occasionally to turn the bag of peas when he thought they were getting a bit warm, and to put a tea towel around her foot when it was overly cold. It was sweet, actually, if a little over attentive, but then I knew from friends that my own family was ridiculously laid back and under attentive. Imo teased me about it, recalling countless childhood occasions when I’d sent them to school with near pneumonia, or others such as a particularly hairy sea wall in Cornwall which I’d let them walk along. The raging sea was on one side, a forty-foot drop on to concrete on the other. Imo swears I’d called up, after Helena had vaguely voiced concern: ‘Darlings, if you’re going to fall, fall this way, on to the concrete.’

So no, I wasn’t used to a family that rearranged cushions behind my head, as Dan was doing for Nance now, whilst, to her credit, she grumbled about his fussing, or, equally mindful of my needs, wondered if I’d like some more fish pie, since I seemed to have polished mine off in a nano second? As Dan widened his eyes in mock incredulity at my empty plate, Nance and I laughed.

‘I’ve always been greedy,’ I told him, none too seductively. ‘In fact, when I was young, Mum used to make me wait until everyone else had started and was well under way so I didn’t finish before them.’

‘Which surely only made you bolt your food more!’ observed Nance, triumphantly. ‘Your mother certainly had some strange ideas.’

I grinned, well used to Mum and Nance sparring with each other, which was only part of their friendship, and surely oiled the wheels. Much as their shared love of the hard stuff did, I thought, watching Nance drain her small glass of wine and waggle it at Dan. He made a face and shook his head back.