‘Wolfie, hey, look at my PJs. Do you like them? That’s Buzz Lightyear, look. Look at his massive chin. Danny says you could bang nails with that chin. Do you like him? I love him. He’s my favourite superhero. Danny reckons Buzz is the duck’s nuts, don’t you, Danny?’

I do, as it goes.

‘George, don’t be bonkers. I never said that – you must have misheard me. I said he’s the truck’s guts.’

‘No, you didn’t! You said—’ I reached forward, dragged George on to my lap and put my hand over his mouth. He was warm and solid against my chest and I felt another surge of love.

‘Don’t worry, George, I believe you.’ Wolfie gave him the double thumbs up just as he managed to wrench my hand away from his mouth.

‘See, Danny! Wolfie reckons you’re a big fat liar! You did so say the duck’s—’

‘All right, that’s enough, George. Now, who’s ready for cake?’ George immediately stopped wriggling and grabbed a fork as Dom handed out plates of cake.

I shifted his bony bum to a more comfortable spot on my thigh and snuck a look over at Wolfie. See? Like Dom said, kids and dogs love me, and isn’t that the best measure of a good man? A good uncle, maybe? On cue, Gentleman threw himself theatrically at my feet and gazed up adoringly as a thin thread of drool escaped the corner of his mouth. The fact that George was the messiest eater in the house and required hyper-vigilant surveillance at all times was absolutely not the reason.

‘I love chocolate cake! Aren’t you going to eat yours, Danny? I’ll have it if you don’t want it.’ Cake was the last thing I felt like, but George was already on critical, so he didn’t need anyone else’s share of the sugar. I batted him away and forced a forkful into my mouth.

‘Jog on, you cheeky turnip, this is all mine. In fact, I might even have yours as well.’ I made a faux snatch for his plate.

‘All right, all right, George. Calm down. You have yours and Danny will have his, OK?’ Dom pointed a finger in our direction. ‘And you are definitely not having any more cake than what’s already in your mouth and on your plate. Danny, you calm down too.’ I poked George in the ribs, and he cackled.

For a while, the only noises were the sound of forks on plates and a couple of hopeful whimpers from Gentleman. I was focused on getting my piece of cake down and, more importantly, keeping it down, when Dom stabbed me lightly in the arm with the handle of his fork.

‘Oi. Earth to Danny. Where were you, mate? Thought you’d gone into a lager coma for a minute there.’ The thought was scarily appealing, but I kept it quiet.

‘Sorry, mate. Coma. Right. Yeah. No. I’m here, present and accounted for. What were you saying?’ Dom rolled his eyes at me, but he smiled.