They declined tea. ‘I’m about to go. I’ll get the bus to Mum’s,’ they said. ‘I’ll be okay.’ Still I remained there, a respectful distance away. That risked annoying them, but it seemed wrong to leave them alone. Not so long ago, Mel tried out that same cerise in her hair. I hoped that she’d never end up alone and sad in a darkening American office with grey carpet tiles and ergonomic chairs.

Lyric packed up their things and tucked their hoverboard under their arm. I punched in the security code, and we rode down in silence in the lift – I stood as far away as possible. In the street, they said, ‘Thanks, Lyle,’ before putting on their headphones and hovering away.

Since that evening, Lyric often gives me a small smile. They told me about the snoring while we were waiting for Russ one day. He arrived in a pastel flurry. ‘Sorry, guys! Last-minute drama – the Moldovan announced at breakfast that she wanted to go home. She claims she misses it. What’s to miss about a shithole? Nah, she was after screwing a pay rise out of us. If Prada wasn’t so attached to her, I’d have driven her to the airport then and there.’

In Richmond, the sunset died at last. Bram switched on the lights in his water feature and those concealed in the conifers. ‘So,’ he said when he sat down again. It was a question. He crossed his arms and put his hands in his armpits. Then he took them out and rubbed his palms together briskly. The overhead heater was no match for the wind, but when the calendar says spring, Bram likes to have pre-dinner drinks outside.

Chanel talked softly for a while. Our dinner party and everything that followed had had a marvellously restorative effect on Chanel. Her moodiness vanished, her spirits lifting as if sponsored by Wonderbra. Bram listened to her without interruption – no doubt he’d heard the same kind of thing from other families. When she finished, he said, ‘No way.’ His chair was the furthest from the lighted conifers, and he seemed to bark from the shadows. ‘We don’t even have a diagnosis.’

‘We’ll never have one,’ said Chanel. ‘As you know. You must have noticed that the zest has gone from Ivy. The Amendment was designed for this situation.’

‘It’s up to Ivy,’ said the same raspy voice. ‘The request must come from the patient.’

‘Is Ivy even aware of the Amendment? You know how unworldly she can be. That’s why we’re asking you to talk to her and run through her options. It’s only fair to her. You say there’s no diagnosis. But you’ve told us you can’t rule out cancer, right?’ Bram didn’t respond, and Chanel pressed on. ‘How far do you think it’s progressed? Stage two? Three? It’s the suffering that concerns us.’