Faye covers the dining table in a white linen tablecloth, sets up a lazy Susan in the middle and serves lunch as a banquet. It’s all recipes from Ottolenghi’s Plenty and Plenty More, prepped by Jonalyn and finished by Faye. There’s far too much food for the six of us. Simon’s friend Brian overfills his plate and, after his last forkful, declares he’s peaked early. Faye reaches across and spoons more onto his plate, to prove him wrong. Her sister Gloria paces herself, taking small amounts of each of the four dishes, making sure her plate is never empty until she’s done.

Gloria is older than Faye, the big sister of the family, an accountant who lives with her cats in a flat in Kowloon. She’s wearing a string of pearls, pearl earrings, a silk top and a straight black skirt. Brian runs a web-based business called Ozymandias, selling military collectables and miniatures, from ancient Egypt to the present. It is no surprise that, among Hong Kong’s Anglo expats, he and Simon found each other. He has a short-sleeved check shirt that’s determinedly out of fashion, a pair of faded beige chinos and a thicket of uncombed wavy grey hair. With his fork and knife now pushed together on his plate, he’s low in his seat, semi-reclined, legs stretched out, the slope of his shoulders making him look even lower. We’ve drunk the Moët I bought and there’s a bottle of red open.

I want to tell them my brother bought a book for my child who never made it. Swallows and Amazons. Bought it as soon as he got off the phone. Knew to do that. I can still hear him reading it in London, his BBC voice that seemed all grown up to me then. It’s still in him now, that voice, a version of it. It was almost in Girdwood, and then not.

It’s clear we’ve all finished eating when Faye spins the cauliflower, pomegranate and pistachio salad towards Gloria and says, ‘You need more.’ There’s still half of it left.

Gloria grabs the edge of the lazy Susan and holds up her other hand. She shakes her head.

‘There will be doggy bags,’ Faye says, before Gloria can speak. ‘You never eat enough.’

‘There are always doggy bags,’ Gloria says, across the table to me. ‘The last time a Lam under-catered at a family event was World War Two.’

‘So, what brings you two to Hong Kong?’ Brian says, in the same world-weary way he says everything else. ‘Is it just the almost-birthday, or . . .’

‘Well, that and catching up with Jo-Jo,’ Simon says, before Lacy and I can answer.

‘Ah, yes.’ Brian nods, as if he’s placed me properly now. ‘You’re the brother who sells those things that fall off lorries and into Jo-Jo’s lap.’

Simon lets out a laugh before he can rein it in.

He’s about to speak, but I get in first. ‘I’m the only brother, as far as I’m aware. And Jo-Jo tells me it’s all legit.’