‘Anyhow, never mind boring work chat,’ she says, sensing my discomfort and coming to the rescue as always. ‘We spent the journey here talking about a new band we’ve just discovered. They’ve a song that’s never off the radio and I absolutely love it. What did I say their name was, Harry? You know me, I’m bloody useless with names. Blind something?’

‘Blind Generation!’ Jack and I say at the same time, and then Jack comes back out from behind the barbecue, leaving a stream of smoke behind him.

‘Their new song is awesome!’ he says. ‘I’d love to hear them live one day! We were dancing like two eejits round the kitchen to that song earlier and singing along at the top of our voices. It’s a great song.’

My tummy leaps.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say how I know the lead singer, how he has been such a huge part of my life, how he was in my brother’s band, how my conversation about him with Matthew caused that now infamous life-changing accident that led me to Jack, how I feel like I’m now over it all at last … but I don’t. I keep it to myself. That’s all in the past and it really doesn’t matter any more.

I don’t want to talk about Tom Farley. I want to keep those old wounds well and truly healed over.

‘Sing us a song, Char! Go on!’ says Sophie, a few glasses of wine and four full bellies later. Jack is next to me on the sofa indoors now, while Sophie and Harry lounge on an armchair each. It’s dropped dark and our evening, as always with the Darlings, has been fun, relaxed and full of laughter and stories.

‘Yes, I’d love that,’ says Jack, squeezing my hand a little for encouragement. ‘I’ve always wished I could play a musical instrument, it’s such a gift.’

‘Did you never play music, Jack?’ asks Harry. ‘I was a mean spoons player back in the day, but my music teacher always said I’d a voice that would scare dinosaurs. Did wonders for my confidence, old Miss Boot. Boy, was she aptly named or what?’

I chuckle at the very thought of it.

‘You know, my poor mother spent a fortune on piano lessons, but I just didn’t have it in me,’ says Jack, ‘which is why I’m so in awe of the talent the Taylor family have. Matthew should have been a huge star and Charlotte is hiding her voice somewhere, but I wish she could find it. I’d love to hear you sing, babe, and I don’t mean hearing you sing in the shower or along with the radio. I mean sing your own stuff.’