“That boy is growing into a fine young man. He dropped by one day to see if I needed him to empty the bins because he knew his grandad always did it, but I have no issues with my recycling. It’s other things I need help with. Anyway, in the end I didn’t have the energy for it. Good sex isn’t just about having the right parts. It’s about intimacy and knowledge. For me, it’s about caring. You can’t buy that online. You can buy sex toys, of course. I bought a vibrator.”

Clare swallowed. “Did Aiden help you with that?”

“I’m quite capable of making a purchase from the internet, Clare. I don’t need teenage assistance with something as basic as that.”

“Right.” Was she about to have a conversation about vibrators with her mother? Because she was fairly sure she’d die. Todd, of course, would think it was hilarious.

“The vibrator is better than nothing, but not as good as your father. I imagine him smiling smugly from wherever he is.”

Clare, who was imagining something quite different, decided that the conversation had to end right now. Yes, she was the one who had encouraged her mother to talk more about her feelings, but there were limits and Clare had reached that limit.

“I’d love to see the photos of Dad. And of Becca.”

“I’ll fetch them. I was looking at them just last night so I know exactly where they are.”

Now that the topic of conversation was no longer her mother’s lack of sex life, the guilt returned. “I wish you’d told me you were looking at those photos.”

“Why? You’d only cluck over me and neither of us needs that. You have your own life, and I have mine. I love that our lives intersect regularly, but I don’t need you checking on me. If I need you, I’ll ask. I proved that this morning when I called you for a lift to the hospital.”

“I’m glad you called.”

“Well I couldn’t figure out a way to keep pressure on the wound and drive. I would have ended up with blood on the upholstery, which would have been hard to explain if I was stopped for speeding.”

Clare started to laugh. “You’re the best, Mum. I don’t tell you that enough.”

“Good, because that embarrasses me as much as tales of my sex life embarrass you.” Her mother sneezed. “Now could we go down and continue this conversation somewhere that has been vacuumed this century?”

“Sorry.” Clare stood up and brushed thick layers of dust from her jeans. “And you’re right. I really ought to have a clear out. I don’t know why I find it so hard to let go of things.”