I help Gracie set the table as stragglers arrive. Hugh’s aunt and uncle usually come, as do the older couple that lives next door. Everyone assumes their positions – Hugh’s uncle starts manning the grill, Heather, Hugh’s aunt, starts refilling drinks. Shaggy darts in and out of the house, arranging bowls of coleslaw and salad on the table.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, which never happens at this hour considering most of my social circle is still in the US. It’s Millie. I step out to answer it, panicked. My heart is racing. Millie gets scans every six months as a follow-up to her double mastectomy.

‘Everything OK?’ I say, as soon as the FaceTime connects.

‘Andi!’ Millie yelps as her face slowly comes into focus. ‘I didn’t know if you would answer but thank God you did – I have great news!’

‘Millie, you scared me!’ I tell her angrily, although I’m so relieved my anger is fleeting. ‘It’s so late for you,’ I say, ‘you never call me at this time.’

‘I know but I just found out and I had to tell you.’ She’s practically jumping up and down.

‘OK, what is it?’ I’m sceptical. Millie’s last great news was that she found her new favourite bagel place. Not that I don’t support great bagels, but I didn’t exactly think it met the bar for ‘great news’.

‘You really want to know?’

‘Yes! Tell me. I’m at Hugh’s mom’s so I can’t be on the phone for forever.’

Millie rolls her eyes, but she smiles. ‘Cleveland’s sending me to Australia for THREE MONTHS!’ she shouts.

‘You’re kidding me,’ I say, my face exploding into a grin.

‘Nope!’ She launches into an explanation.

‘Ahhhhhh!’ I scream as she talks. I’m so excited I can’t contain it.

She tells me the cities she’s visiting, the dives she’s supposed to take for work, why she didn’t tell me when she applied – it was a long shot, she wanted it to be a surprise . . . I zone out as she launches into her tourist visa application and how quickly she thinks it will process. Instead, I think about all the things we can do together, all the stuff I’ve been dying to show her.

Hugh heard my scream and has looked up from his rugby throwing, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

He must be able to hear snippets of the FaceTime because he mouths to me, ‘Millie? Here?’ He raises a single eyebrow – he still doesn’t see eye to eye with Millie . . . at all. But they’re learning to love each other, and that’s nothing a little bonding time can’t fix. Right?