‘I miss him. Tell me him he can stay with me when I finally get the spare room done.’

‘Oh no, he’s got a nose bleed. I’ve got to go. Say hi to your parents from me. Speak later.’ Emma hangs up and Yvonne smiles, glad to have something other than work or family commitments to look forward to, then she realises the time.

Her family arrive en masse two hours later, bringing with them a plant she will fail to keep alive, a Nigella Lawson cookbook she will regift, and noise, so much noise. It doesn’t feel this intense at the family home, where there’s the space to sit in the kitchen or pair off into the garden but here, in her flat, it feels tight.

‘This is wonderful,’ her mum says. ‘I’m so proud of my little one, finally starting to grow up.’

Yvonne takes the backhanded compliment and in an act of domesticity empties a packet of biscuits onto a plate.

‘Though it is a shame that you’re not actually making a roast,’ her mum looks down at the oven, still uninstalled four days after being delivered.

‘I don’t even have worktops, so I’m hardly in need of an oven. But look, the cupboards are in.’ Yvonne rubs a hand across a cupboard door then demonstrates opening and closing it.

‘You know what you need?’ her mum says and Yvonne, knowing exactly what comes next, squeezes on a tea towel to stop herself from screaming. ‘A man. Then you’d get all this DIY sorted. Why don’t you get your new boyfriend to help you?’

‘Why don’t you go and sit down, Mum? I’ll bring the teas through.’

In the living room her brothers complain about the lack of seating in the flat, but then what did they expect? That she buys a place big enough to accommodate all of them on the rare occasion they manage to coordinate a group visit.

‘Good job Del’s not coming with the kids,’ Nick says as she hands him first a coaster, then a mug of tea. ‘Don’t think you could fit another person in this room. Is there any sugar with this tea, Sis?’

Yvonne sighs.

‘There’s still a bit to be done, isn’t there, love?’ her dad asks.

‘Yes, but it all costs money. If only I knew a carpenter,’ she says putting a hand on Claude’s shoulder.

He pats her hand sheepishly, ‘I will help, but I have so much work on at the moment and I can’t say no to any of it. I promise I’ll make time for it soon.’