A silly question, usually, and one she always twitters at me, but I could actually give her quite a good answer today. Dad and I have been to all sorts of places around London and today we’ve been to Covent Garden and I’ve been asked out by an actual man. I can’t be bothered, though. And if he doesn’t call, it won’t be true. ‘The usual. Nothing,’ I say.

‘OK. Warren and I have just bought a new swing set for the yard. The kids are out in it now. Adorable.’

‘Wow,’ I say. I have no idea what a swing set is. ‘Great.’ Angela always sounds so free, I think. She shrugged off the burden of Dad and me, let it fall like Dick Whittington’s knapsack to the ground, and ran. She made herself a man out of clay, in those pottery classes, fashioned it just how she wanted it and pressed herself against him to make an indelible impression. She has children – part of her, out there in the world. Well, in her back garden, at least. She has everything.

‘It’s really hot today. Thirty-two degrees.’

‘Same here,’ I say.

‘Oh yes, the heatwave. I can’t imagine London is very pleasant in it. It’s going to be beautiful here. We’re going to the jetty later, off to do some fishing.’

‘Fabulous.’ Angela seems to go fishing a lot, which amuses me. Another part of her wonderful Canadian life. I notice there’s been no ‘Thank you’, for WhatsApping that crabbing photo … ‘Actually, Dad and I have been out a couple of times ourselves,’ I say, after all.

‘Have you? You never go anywhere these days! Out where?’

‘Covent Garden today. We went to Camden the other morning, too. And we’ve been to Primrose Hill, Little Venice and St Dunstan in the East, as well.’ Egg that pudding, why not? I think. She always does. ‘I’ve been Dad’s guide, I’ve become his eyes,’ I say, mimicking Verity Holmes.

‘Dunstan in the what?’

‘The East. It’s kind of a secret.’

‘Oh, right, whatever. So, you’ve been out to places. This is astonishing. Has he been OK?’

‘Up and down,’ I say. ‘But we seem to be heading in the right direction. This morning was fun.’

‘Fun? Wow. Well, that’s great. Really great. And so surprising!’ There’s a beat. She is obviously digesting this incredible news. ‘So, where’s next?’

‘Liberty,’ I say, thinking of the list. We might go in the next few days.

‘Oh, right. He used to love that building. He went there with Nonna, or something, one day as a little boy – he told me. And he took me there once. I was only about three. One Saturday morning. I got told off by a man for running around.’

‘Where was I?’

‘Doing something with Mum.’