“A toast,” said Steph. “To Lucy, who has been delightful.” She leant across the counter and tapped her glass to Lucy’s and Jackie lifted hers in a sort of toast. Lucy wondered how many bottles had been opened before she arrived, then took a sip of the wine. Sweetish and a little spicy, like Christmas.

She still hadn’t shared her Christmas cake, she realised. She’d have to bring it down to have after dinner, but right then she was itching to get into that kitchen and help set things right. The food smelled delicious, but the mess! She spared a thought for poor Nate, whose kitchen was being abused, and even though she wasn’t the hardcore neat freak that Chloe was, she couldn’t stand it any longer.

“I’m helping!” she declared as she climbed off the stool.

“Oh, Lucy, honey, you don’t need to help.” Steph was stirring a pot of something on the stove. “We’ve done this menu a hundred times. We’re fine.”

Lucy ignored her. With all the confusion about Will and Jules, she needed to do something to feel like there was a modicum of order in her life. While Steph and Jackie continued cooking, she flitted about them, trying to stay out from underfoot as much as possible. She gathered used bowls, pans and, utensils and moved them to the sink for rinsing. She loaded the dishwasher and ran it, then found a cloth and some all-purpose spray under the sink and got to work on the counter tops.

The sisters were making more work for her as every moment passed, but she liked being able to help and in less than twenty minutes, it looked like a kitchen again, rather than a disaster zone. She returned to her perch on the stool and took a sip of her wine, satisfied with a job well done.

“Thank you, Lucy. It is actually better to work in a clean kitchen, but I’ve never quite mastered the clean-as-you-go approach,” said Steph.

“We get it from our mom,” added Jackie. “She was an incredible home cook, but every time she made a meal, even a simple dinner on a Tuesday night, the kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off.”

“Hey,” Steph stopped and looked at her sister, an expression of realisation on her face. “How did I never of think of this before, but that’s probably why I hate cleaning so much … because we were the ones who had to clean up after her”—she looked at Lucy—“and I mean every night.”

Jackie laughed. “Seriously, you’re only just now figuring that out?”

“Yeah.” Steph nodded slowly, then punctuated her thought with, “Hunh.”

“I don’t love cleaning per se,” said Lucy, “but I do like when things are in their place, when there’s a sense of order.” Steph glanced up and smiled and Lucy, certain that was approval on Steph’s face, beamed.

“I think the ham is ready to come out,” said Jackie. Steph jumped into action and soon there was a giant glazed ham on the counter, glistening and golden.