I managed somehow to get through the morning at work, but I’m glad to have escaped for the afternoon. I’ve headed to Dad’s to spend the rest of the anniversary with him like I always do. Only this year I’ve brought the memory jar with me.

Dad’s sitting at the kitchen table, examining the jar like it’s a priceless work of art.

‘What a beautiful idea.’

‘It is, isn’t it? I’ve already put a few of my favourite memories in there. Like the one where the crab latched onto her foot when we were at Swanage.’

Dad laughs abruptly. ‘Definitely top ten moment right there. And I take it you got the al fresco wee on that nature hike?’

‘Of course.’

My poor mum was mortified that she’d snuck off to have what she thought was a secluded toilet break on a hike only for a coachload of tourists to pull up alongside her.

‘I’m going to head out to the shops for a few hours,’ says Julie, walking in. ‘Let you have a little bit of alone time.’

She rests a hand on the back of Dad’s shoulders and he puts his hand on top of hers.

‘Or you could stay.’ I shrug. ‘If you wanted to, I mean I don’t know if you’d want to hear stories about my mum, but we’re going to write some down to put in the jar as a keepsake.’

Julie pauses and I’m hoping I haven’t offended her.

‘If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to hear them,’ she says.

‘The more the merrier,’ I say with a smile.

She pulls up a chair next to Dad and he gives me a look of thanks.

‘So, what have you got so far?’

Julie sits through all the stories we exchange about Mum, asking questions, laughing a little, and it hits me how wrong I’ve been about this whole situation. She’s sitting here listening to memories of a woman whom she’d never met, who she knew would always have our hearts, and it’s not fazing her in the slightest. It’s made me finally accept that she’s not looking to take anyone’s place, and that there’s enough room for her in our family without her replacing Mum or usurping her memory.

‘I’ve just thought of a memory I want to add,’ says Dad, picking up a bit of paper, ‘one I don’t think you know of actually, Edie. But when you got accepted into university on an English degree, your mum was so proud of you that she told every single one of our clients. She was boasting for days and spent weeks grinning like a Cheshire cat.’