I took deep belly breaths while Gregory explained how helpful it might be – to them, of course, two-fifths of bugger all to do with us – if the Flynns could be invited to the wedding party. Rowan had three false starts before he answered. ‘I can throw names around with Edi later. We haven’t exactly started planning.’

‘Of course, boy, of course. Think it through.’

‘Fuck’s sake, Parcell,’ I whispered on my way back to the kitchen, ‘get a grip of yourself.’ Everything I did, I did with the brute force of a hundred women scorned by their in-laws. ‘What an ugly cliché.’ Bang went the fridge door as I took out the milk. ‘What a horrible, boring thing to take umbrage with.’ Bang it went again when I replaced the carton. I left our teabags in to stew – don’t I just know how that feels – and fished around in the freezer to see what I could throw in the oven for breakfast. ‘This will not be a bad day,’ I said under my breath as I moved about the kitchen. ‘Today will not be a bad day. Today will not be a bad day. Today will not be—’

‘With all this talk of how well the business is doing—’ Penny had taken over talking; the rise in volume significant enough to carry through to me ‘—what your father means to say is that we’d like to contribute to the costs, when you get to a point of needing the help.’ And even though she hadn’t outright said as much – and wouldn’t, because it wasn’t her style – the offer itself felt like a judgement on Mum and Dad. They were meant to pay, of course, if tradition had anything to do with the wedding.

‘Mum.’ Rowan sounded like a nervous schoolboy. ‘Edi and I haven’t said as much. But we’ve always been equal in things and, really, I think …’ I felt my tummy tense. If Rowan knew me as well as I hoped, then the only possible thing he could say next was: ‘Edi and I would really like to pay for the wedding ourselves, or pay for as much of it as we can. We’d like to start married life equally, financially and all, as we mean to go on.’