‘Well, I wasn’t saying anything, but Wolfie was saying that . . . Hey, are you OK, mate? You’re looking a bit green around the gills.’

‘I’m fine. Sorry, Wolfie, what did you say?’

‘I just said—’

‘We already told Wolfie all about you, Danny. Didn’t we, Dad?’ George sprayed his conversation through a mouthful of cake and Gentleman moved to amber alert. ‘About how you sleep out in the shed instead of in the house and how they didn’t want you at your job any more, again. And that’s like . . .’ George looked down at his fingers and realised there was no way there’d be enough. ‘About a million jobs you’ve had. And how you won loads of money at the pub and now you can’t even be bothered looking for a new job, and—’

‘All right, George. Let someone else get a word in.’ I could see Dom watching me carefully. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he knew exactly what was going through my head, because we’ve been friends a long time and he can read me like one of George’s very short bedtime stories. He reached across and tapped my forearm a couple of times.

‘Deep breaths, mate. Come on, you’ll be all right.’

‘Yeah, you’ll be all right, BABE.’ George was drunk on cake, past-bedtime-ness and, I’d just realised by the way he was fixated on Wolfie, love. Imagine. Lucky kid. I shook my head and there was a slight clearing of fog.

‘Well, it sounds like you’ve heard all the important stuff, Wolfie.’

‘You were at the pub a long time, Danny.’ Wolfie smiled, fork poised in the air.

Dom burst out laughing at the deadpan return. ‘Touché!’

A tiny crumb of chocolate cake quivered at the edge of her mouth and I got the distinct feeling she’d won something again.

‘Yeah, anyway, what I was going to say is that it’s no big deal, but I should probably let you know something. As I’m here.’ She glanced between Dom and me like she wasn’t sure who she should really be addressing. In the end, she decided to talk to her fork.

‘Lou’s had . . . Well, there was a bit of an accident.’

I was still getting over the sound of my sister’s name, so Dom responded before I’d even processed the rest of what Wolfie had said.

‘Is she OK? What happened?’

Her eyes flicked over to me and immediately I wished I’d got there first. The strikes were piling up.

‘Yeah, she’s fine. Well, not exactly fine, but OK. She was on her moped and a Tesco van came around the corner and . . .’ She stared at her fork intently. ‘I guess they didn’t see each other. Anyhow, she’s a bit banged up, but she’s OK. At the hospital they said she was very lucky.’

‘Wow, I’m sorry to hear that. When did it happen? Is she still in the hospital?’ Dom has the ability to sound concerned, calm and reassuring all at the same time, like every little thing is going to be all right. When I first met him, I thought his bedside manner must be part of what they teach you at medical school, but I know now it’s just on account of him being a bloody top bloke.