‘He won’t pay me unless we all back out.’

‘Well, let’s see what the rest want to do.’

‘You’re going to persuade them to stay in.’

‘What kind of person do you take me for? I’m just going to lay out the facts, Rob. Everyone has to make their own decision.’

‘You look warm,’ said Grace drily as Kate followed her friend into her kitchen. It was a massive understatement; half an hour sitting in the blazing sun with Rob then a two-mile walk to Hawthorne Lane had left her frazzled. She took the glass of iced water Grace offered her and gulped it down.

‘Better?’

‘Much. Thank you.’

‘I’m surprised you didn’t get a lift with Rob. Was he out on another job?’

Kate grimaced. ‘He was there.’ She filled Grace in on their conversation – and the promise to hold a vote.

‘God, this is a sorry, shitty state of affairs,’ said Grace. ‘I feel for him, I really do. And that poor girl.’

‘Me too. I just wish I could promise him something more.’

Grace nodded. ‘When are you going to hold the vote?’

‘As soon as possible. I know you’re not around much . . .’

‘No. Chemo starts again next week. Part of me’s dreading it. It’s so intense this time. But part of me wants to think it’s the last ever time, then he’ll be given the transplant, then, well . . . we just have to hope it takes.’ Grace’s eyes briefly lit up: cautious hope mixed in amongst the pain. ‘I’ll talk to Nick but I’m certain he’ll think the same way as me.’ Grace looked at her. ‘You have to carry on, Kate.’

Kate felt the full force of her friend’s belief in her, the trust she’d do a good job. It gave her strength. ‘I’m going to a trade conference next week, there’s going to be a lot of people there from the agrochemical industry. I’m hoping to corner a few.’ She suddenly remembered what she’d been carrying in her bag – she pulled out two large wrapped boxes. ‘For the boys.’

‘Arnie! John!’ called Grace and they came running in. ‘Look what Kate’s got for you.’

Identical looks of ecstatic anticipation. The paper was ripped off in 3.4 seconds, then there were exclaims of delight.

‘A dog!’

‘Mine’s got a green collar, what’s yours got?’

‘Red!’

They flung their arms around Kate and she hugged their warm, small bodies, flooded by a rush of affection. She helped get the toy dogs out of the limpet-tight plastic packaging and the boys immediately pushed the buttons on the leads so the dogs started walking. John pushed another button and his dog barked.

‘Look, she’s saying, “Thank you, Kate, you’re the best!”’ He fed her with the food that was included in the pack, then made her poo it out. ‘I’m going to call mine Kate,’ he declared, and she laughed as she watched her namesake defecate plastic bones on the kitchen floor.