He says this with typical Dad understatement, but he probably means, She threw the crockery at me.

“I was anxious!” says Mum defensively. “Anyone would be anxious! I had a little one; our income had plummeted….”

“I know,” says Dad soothingly. “It was a worrying time.”

“You coped very well, love,” says Janice, putting a supportive hand on Mum’s. “I remember that time. You did wonders with mince.”

“I was out of work for a few months. Things were tricky.” Dad takes up the story. “And then, out of the blue, I received a letter from Corey. Not just a letter, a check too. He’d been making an income for a while, but suddenly he was into serious money. He remembered our jokey deal and he’d actually honored it. He sent me five hundred pounds. I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

“You have no idea what five hundred pounds was in those days,” chimes in Mum eagerly. “You could buy…a house!”

“Not a house,” corrects Dad. “Maybe a secondhand car.”

“That money saved our lives,” says Mum with typical drama. “It saved your life, Becky love! Who knows if you wouldn’t have starved to death?”

I can see Suze opening her mouth to protest something like, Surely there was a welfare system, and I shake my head. Mum’s in the moment. She won’t want to hear about welfare systems.

“But that’s when I made my huge mistake.” Dad is silent for a long moment, and we all wait, hardly even breathing. “It was vanity,” he says at last, “sheer vanity. I wanted your mother to be proud of me. Here we were, not long married, new parents, and I’d gone and lost my job. So…I lied. I invented a piece of work and told her I’d earned the money.” His face kind of crumples. “Stupid. So stupid.”

“I remember you running round to see me, Jane!” Janice’s face brightens. “I was hanging out my washing, remember? You came sprinting in, saying, ‘Guess what my clever husband’s done!’ I mean, we were all so relieved.” She looks around the group. “You don’t know what the strain had been like, what with Becky’s arrival and bills going up every day….” She leans across and pats Dad’s arm. “Graham, don’t blame yourself. Who wouldn’t tell a little fib in those circumstances?”

“It was pathetic,” says Dad, with a sigh. “I wanted to be the savior.”

“You were the savior,” confirms Janice firmly. “That money came into your family because of you, Graham. It doesn’t matter how.”

“I wrote back and said, Corey, you’ve just saved my marriage, old friend. He replied, Well, let’s see if I can do the same next year! And so it began.” Dad takes a slug of his drink, then looks up at Mum and me. “I meant to tell you the truth. Every year. But you were both so proud. It became such a tradition for us to spend the Big Bonus together.”

I can see Mum fingering her pearls, and my mind ranges back over the years. All the lovely lunches we’ve had, celebrating Dad’s Big Bonus. All the treats he’s bought us. Hours of happiness and pride in him. No wonder he never let on. I totally understand it.