‘Jo, I love my boy. I am so very proud of him. He has a heart of gold, but if Noah was the only person behind that business he’d give away the profits to the needy, serve Pot Noodles for lunch and the toilets would be a health hazard. You keep the place running. You got him to hire Erin, a proper chef. You oversaw the refurbishment of the function room. And suggested the beer garden. Give yourself some credit.’ She paused. ‘And I remember the young you, who always wrote stories and made me read them. Even then you had something. So use it. Chase it and work at it. You don’t think every published author in the world didn’t almost kill themselves learning their trade? Do it. Don’t just sit and wish for it to happen. Make it happen.’

Jo felt a wave of love wash over her for her mother, who knew the right thing to say even when that right thing involved a verbal kick up the bum.

‘I love you, Mum,’ she said. ‘You’re right. I’ll try.’

‘None of this try nonsense,’ her mother said, as she switched the washing machine on. ‘Do it. Change your thought patterns. Auntie Mags is mad into these affirmations these days. We’re not allowed to say anything negative. We’ve to say it like we’ve already achieved it. Like, I’m losing weight, instead of I’m trying to lose weight. That kind of thing.’

Jo smiled. Auntie Mags went through phases of obsessions with new hobbies. She had done almost every evening class the community centre at Pilots Row had offered and could turn her hand to sewing, glass painting, pottery and car maintenance to varying degrees – although Jo wasn’t sure she’d entirely trust her godmother to change a tyre. Now she was in a positivity and empowerment phase.

‘How is Auntie Mags anyway? Did you have a good night last night?’

‘I did. It was such a laugh. You know, just silly stuff, but my sides were sore from laughing. Auntie Mags was in great form, telling us all her stories. I keep telling her she should write them down some time. You wouldn’t think she was a woman in her sixties – the life she leads. She’s always up to something, and she rarely behaves. She has me roaring laughing. But, fun as it was, I’m paying for it today. Never again!’ she declared, shaking her head.

‘Yeah right,’ Jo said. ‘It will be the same next Thursday.’

‘You’re probably right, love,’ her mother replied. ‘But it will be an early night for me tonight. What about you?’