‘Hold it. Hang on a minute.’ I was snapped out of my semi-trance by the sharp tone of Wolfie’s voice. She pointed a small finger in my direction, and for a second I thought she was going to jab me in the chest. I leaned back reflexively, but she just waggled it around in the air in front of me. ‘Why’d you . . . Do you mean you already knew about me? That I’m your . . . that you’re my uncle?’

I could feel the weight of four sets of eyes on me. George had gone unusually quiet, which meant he was probably ramping up for a blinder (and still not in his pyjamas). Gentleman’s attention was riveted on my chin, probably weighing up the option of eating my face off for a whiff of leftover burger. Wolfie was staring equally intensely, waiting for her answer, and Dom just looked confused. I cleared my throat, straightened my back, and attempted to assemble some of the words that were staggering around on the tip of my tongue into something sensible. It was a job of work, I’ve got to say.

‘No, no, that’s not what I meant.’ Although I’ve got no idea what I did mean. ‘First of all, I didn’t even know you existed until just now.’ And I’m still not sure I’m not hallucinating. ‘It’s just that you’re . . . Well, you really look like . . .’ I shrugged and trailed off because surely she got the picture. ‘And second, I think we all just need to calm down and have some tea, yeah?’ Strong finish – well done, Mulberry!

It was pretty clear I was the only one in the room who needed to calm down, but I, like my father before me, have always been of the opinion there’s no occasion that can’t be improved by a good brew. I had a fleeting urge to get out the red paint again and spread that one across the pavement in front of Ray’s house.

‘You stay there, mate, I’ll do the tea. Concentrate on some deep breathing and get this down you.’ Dom handed me a pint glass of water and stood over me while I drained it. He refilled it straight away and put it down in front of me. ‘You’ll be all right.’

It wasn’t the first time Dom had sorted me out after a night on the sauce, so we both knew the drill. Sometimes it felt like all that was left was for him to whip out a picture book and tell me it was time for teeth and bed. If only.

‘I get that a lot, actually. That I look like my . . . like Lou.’ I managed to keep Wolfie’s face in focus when she spoke, although I felt like I’d slightly lost my place.

‘Well, you do. You really, really do. But don’t worry, I’m not totally nuts. I didn’t actually think you were her. My mouth just got ahead of the old brainbox for a sec.’ Not an unusual occurrence, but there was no need to admit that. I could feel the pint of water finally hitting the spot, so now, how was I going to put this?