There’s a hive of activity in the kitchen, with saucepans bubbling over and chopping boards and vegetable peelings covering most of the work surface. He opens the oven to baste what looks like a turkey.

‘Isn’t it just the four of us?’

‘I know, I know. But I wanted everything to be just right.’ Dad’s hair is sticking up in all different directions from the steam and he looks well and truly flustered. He quickly shuts the oven door. ‘Right, sorry about that. Now I can say a proper hello. How are you keeping, Miles?’

‘Good, thank you. Here.’ He digs into the bag that he’s carrying and presents Dad with a box of chocolates and a bottle of wine.

The smile slides off my face as he passes Dad the bottle.

‘I’ll take that, shall I?’ I say, intercepting it. I know that I’m being ridiculous; it’s not like my dad is suddenly going to start drinking again just because his hand makes contact with a bottle, but I can’t help myself.

Dad narrows his eyes at me before he turns back to Miles.

‘Thank you for the chocolates, and for the wine too.’

‘We’ll take the bottle home with us,’ I say, hugging it to my chest. ‘Dad doesn’t drink.’

‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t know.’ Miles throws me a look of panic. ‘I should have picked up on it. I just assumed when you didn’t drink at the pub it was because you were driving. It’s totally my fault.’

‘No, it’s mine. I should have mentioned it,’ I say.

‘It’s no secret that I’m an alcoholic. It was a hard time for all of us. I can’t say I blame Edie for wanting to forget about that period of our lives.’ He slips the tea towel he was using as an oven glove over his shoulder.

‘It’s OK, there’s really no need for you to explain,’ says Miles, gesturing with his hand.

‘Oh, I don’t mind. After Edie’s mum died, I went out of control,’ Dad carries on regardless. ‘I count myself lucky that thanks to my incredible daughter I managed to get sober.’

‘I had no idea.’

‘Then maybe that’s a good thing and I’ve not scarred Edie for life with it.’ Dad attempts to laugh and I half smile but the truth is I was scarred, which does make it even more weird why I haven’t brought it up with Miles over the last five months. ‘I’ve been sober for fourteen years now, and I’m fine with people around me drinking, but I just don’t like to keep it in the house.’

‘I’ll go and put it in the car,’ Miles offers.