Frankie smiled. ‘I’m good! Everyone’s been so lovely. I think I’ve spoken to almost the whole family now – wow, and this cake looks incredible. Thank you. Oh, by the way.’ She wrestled one-handedly with a shoulder bag and pulled out a square-shaped present wrapped in red paper. ‘Happy belated birthday,’ she said. ‘Sorry it’s a bit late. I would have posted this, but it’s kind of fragile. Hope you like it.’

‘Thank you!’ Paula cried, in delight. Frankie had already sent her a birthday card at the start of the month; she hadn’t been expecting anything else. ‘That’s so kind. Just you coming here was present enough for me, honestly – not that I’m about to give this back now, mind,’ she joked.

She set about unwrapping the gift at once, wondering if it might be some kind of picture from her talented half-sister. She’d seen enough of Frankie’s artwork while staying with her – humorous pen-and-ink cartoons, some bright, zingy stylized dragon prints, plus various painted canvases hanging around the flat – for the hope to flicker up inside her that this present might be one of her pieces. Then she pulled off the paper to find . . .

‘Oh! It’s Oscar!’ A really beautiful little painting of her dog, looking his most handsome and adorable. Somehow, without ever having met him, Frankie had captured the exact twinkle in her dachshund’s eye, his mischievous, beady gaze. ‘How did you . . . ? Oh my goodness. I love it!’

‘That’s so cute!’ cried Stephen, peering to have a look. ‘He’s got his just-nicked-a-sausage glint and everything.’

‘It’s brilliant,’ Eddie agreed.

Luke, Paula’s eldest, was nearby and turned to see what everyone was exclaiming about. ‘Whoa!’ he laughed, seeing the picture. ‘That is so cool. Did you, like, actually paint this yourself, Frankie?’

Frankie was smiling and blushing. ‘Yes, I did,’ she replied with a laugh. ‘I’m glad you like it,’ she said to Paula. ‘I must confess I did ask Matt for help, and he emailed me a load of photos. I hope you don’t think that’s horribly sneaky of me.’

‘Not at all! This is gorgeous, thank you so much.’ Paula hugged her and then beamed at the painting all over again. What a special, unique gift, with such thought behind it. Was it shallow of her to see ‘great presents’ as another reason why she loved having a sister? Oh, well. Call her shallow, then. ‘Matt, look!’ she called, holding up the picture as he came over from the makeshift bar, a wonky Santa hat perched on his head.

‘Aha! I love it when a plan comes together,’ he replied with a grin. ‘We’ve been plotting, haven’t we, Frank? Plotting and scheming.’ He inspected the painting with an approving nod. ‘Isn’t that great? It’s him to a tee. Watch out, Frankie, the boys will have you commissioned to do the hamster next.’