Mum shook her head. “No, that was our other neighbour Mr. Starkey. In any case”—she rose majestically from the sofa—“I should serve up the extra-special vegan special curry before the artichoke goes soggy.”

This was Oliver’s cue to go through to the kitchen and help, Eugenie’s cue to follow him, and my cue to sit in the living room having a bizarre conversation with Judy.

“So,” I began. “How’s…things?”

She absently lifted a spaniel out of the fireplace. “Not bad. Can’t complain. Went to see a chap the other day to see if I could have the use of his cock.”

“And…how did that go?”

“Very disappointing. He’d sent me a picture of it, but it turns out that wasn’t his cock at all. Belonged to another fellow. And you could tell immediately—much smaller, head a completely different shape, and it was bobbing up and down quite erratically.”

“It happens,” I said.

Judy gave an indignant snort. “Not to me it doesn’t. Why is it when you get to a certain age, chaps think you’ll take any cock they offer you? I mean, I said to him, ‘Sir, I have handled many cocks in my time, and that is by far the scrawniest, scraggiest, least satisfying specimen I’ve ever—’”

It was at that moment that—to my mild relief—Mum poked her head round the door. “Oh, by the way, mon caneton, though I am still very angry with you, I should also say that I am over the moon for you and Oliver. Obviously, my own wedding was a cocaine-fuelled rager and my husband was a piece of shit who fucked three of the bridesmaids, but I am sure things will be different for you.”

“I suppose,” I said. “There’ll be less cocaine, and I’m pretty sure Oliver won’t want to have sex with any of the bridesmaids…”

Mum nodded sagely. “It is one of the advantages of being a gay.”

I let that one slide. “I think it’s also an advantage of marrying somebody who isn’t a complete arsehole.”

“I suppose that might also be part of it. But are you absolutely sure about the cocaine? Because if you did want some, I am certain I could arrange it.”

There were few things of which I was absolutely surer. “No cocaine. Also, you don’t have to arrange anything.”

For a moment I was worried I’d offended Mum again. “But of course I will arrange things. You are my son, you are supposed to plan your son’s wedding. You are also supposed to pay for your son’s wedding.”

“Technically, that’s daughters,” pointed out Judy. “Which was a bit rough on my old man what with my having so many. Still the bugger owned half the Home Counties so he could afford it.”