‘Spoilsport!’ roared Nance, clearly absolutely fine. No fluttery, dizzy, after-effects there.

So yes, we were still at the minor tumbling stage, I thought, with Nancy and my parents. But what next? Would they all take more of a tumble one day and drop down dead? Ghastly, obviously, but perhaps a blessing, and something they all hoped would happen. A quick exit. Or, would they tumble, but survive? End up in a ridiculously expensive care home, wired up to all manner of machines which kept them alive, if not kicking, for the next five years? Impossible to say. But guiltily, I knew that given the admirable level of vigilance Dan provided, the latter would most likely be true for his mother, one day. Which was commendable, obviously, but didn’t half have financial implications for the next generation. That probably wasn’t a problem here, because Nancy was loaded, but my own parents were not. And although we’d collaborated and borrowed to get the bungalow up to speed, there was no more in the pot. I had a feeling I’d have to go back to work if any more was to dribble through, which these days really was a dribble. Plenty of time in prison, to write, of course, I realized suddenly. And plenty of material, too. Who knew who’d be on my top bunk? A serial murderer, perhaps, with a grisly tale to tell. Or a child molest—

‘You all right?’ Dan’s face seemed to be right in mine. He was leaning over and peering at me anxiously as he attempted to take my tray from me. I loosened the white-knuckle grip I appeared to have on it and nodded mutely. My palms were sweaty as I let go. I didn’t trust my voice.

‘You do look awfully pale, darling,’ said Nance, with a frown.

‘No, no, I’m – I’m fine,’ I told them. I raised a smile. ‘Bit ambitious with the second helping of fish pie.’ Dan took my untouched plate on the tray for me. ‘Let me help you in the kitchen.’

I followed him through, taking Nancy’s tray, glad he hadn’t said: ‘No, you stay here with Mum,’ as I thought he was about to. Although juggling three trays would be a feat, even for a capable man like Dan, I thought, as I watched him throw everything in the dishwasher, quickly wipe down surfaces and toss ready meal cartons in the bin. He turned to face me with a smile and I’d already straightened my back and rearranged my face to accommodate a much chirpier expression. It took a bit of summoning but was still achievable.

I could see he was slightly disarmed as he regarded me appreciatively. He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. ‘Gosh, it’s extraordinary … I mean, honestly Lucy, you really haven’t changed that much since we were young.’