Ivy was delighted with my suggestion – it appealed to her instinct for theatre. She’s spent the last two weeks writing her final messages to the children and learning them by heart. She’s also memorising the speech she’ll make at her party. When she said that she was going to make a speech, my scalp shrank. Throw not away the hero in your soul. But of course it’s nothing of the kind. Ivy will deliver the Monologue of the Blue Dress, and she wants to rehearse it this evening. Chanel will be busy cooking Thai snacks for tomorrow, so it’ll fall to me to hear Ivy’s lines. I’ll have to endure the whole thing twice. There she’ll be, propped up against pillows, hands clasped, launching into Only consider the overflow from these lavatories! A rehearsal. When I heard that she wanted one, I realised that sometimes it was all a game to Ivy and sometimes it was a dream and sometimes it was … life.

There’s no question of the children ever seeing the video. Chanel and I will offer them a gentle story instead. ‘Ivy’s heart failed,’ we’ll say. ‘She just slipped away in her sleep. There was no suffering. It was very quick and peaceful at the end.’

We’ll only be telling them the truth. Ivy’s Joyful Occasion will begin with everyone gathered in the lounge. There’ll be food and wine, and it will be Ivy’s time to shine. She’ll deliver her lines from the couch, and then people might feel compelled to make speeches about her. Thuy might discuss Ivy’s bidding strategies. Neela, one of the line dancers, can’t attend as she has a clash with another Joyful Occasion, but she’s sent a message that she wants me to read out. It says that Ivy loved macadamias, presents wrapped in layers of colourful tissue, and quadratic equations. Can any of it be true? We had no idea that Ivy loved those things. Neela is probably talking about herself.

When the speeches have ended, we’ll toast Ivy one last time. Bram will have slipped a sedative into her glass. Fanta will start whimpering, which runs completely counter to etiquette – where’s her Joyful Attitude? She’ll sob, ‘Goodbye it’s been so lovely meeting you,’ and Chanel will have to jostle her into the kitchen. Ivy will grow drowsy, and Bram will help her to her room. Any doctor, or even a registered nurse, can act as the service provider at a Joyful Occasion, but of course Ivy insisted on Bram. When she’s nodded off in bed, watched over by Kuan Yin, Jesus, Buddha and just possibly a miraculous rainbow, he’ll administer an injection. Ivy’s heart will stop.