‘You know, since we spoke, I keep thinking back to that summer at Hartland’s. I haven’t even begrudged the night feeds. Last night I even woke up Alfie as I was laughing so hard. Do you remember when the entertainment staff all got food poisoning and we had to go up and lead the Saturday night show?’

I close my eyes tight. ‘I think I’d blocked that out of my memory for good.’

Soph starts to really laugh and I join in. We’d dressed up as The Pussycat Dolls, or at least a family-friendly version with less provocative dancing and more clothes, and performed a spirited version of ‘Don’t Cha’. I can still picture Douglas in the little dress of Soph’s that he’d borrowed for the occasion.

‘All I can say is thank goodness that was before everyone videoed things on their phones.’

There’s a light tapping noise coming from the front door.

‘Oh, I’ll get that.’ She walks off towards it and I look out of the window at the garden beyond, thinking how homely her house is.

‘Look who decided to pop by,’ says Soph, coming back in doing jazz hands as Douglas appears behind her. He stops still in the doorway when he spots me and pushes his sunglasses on top of his head.

‘What the—’ come his dulcet Scottish tones.

He looks almost exactly like he used to only with more lines and wrinkles; signs of a life lived. He’s still got a full head of hair yet just as untamed as it used to be. He used to be one of those naturally good-looking guys who had a long fangled styling process to make his hair appear as if he’d just rolled out of bed, yet the messy hair he’s sporting today doesn’t seem quite as deliberate. ‘Edie?’

I nod to confirm it, still too stunned to say anything.

‘Bloody hell.’ He drops the overnight bag he’s carrying to the floor and leans over towards me. I expect him to give one of those grown-up air kisses but instead he wraps me up in a big warm hug.

It’s only as he pulls away that I notice that his skin looks ashen and his eyes a little bloodshot.

‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me Edie was coming.’

‘I wanted it to be a surprise.’ Soph goes on to explain how she couldn’t resist inviting him down. ‘Hang on, is Suzie not with you? And Isla?’ She looks towards the front door.

‘No, they couldn’t make it, what with the short notice. Playdates and activities, you know what it’s like when your seven-year-old has a better social life than you.’

‘I’ve got all that to look forward to, haven’t I?’ Soph says to Alfie.

‘Is there a beer going?’