I need to get a move on. I need to go out and try out my fledgling seduction techniques. Find myself a real boyfriend. I mean, Steve fancied me and that worked out fine as a date, so I’ve definitely made progress, haven’t I?

‘Darling, are you still there?’

‘Of course, I’m still here.’

‘Have you got a contact number for that pretty cellist that your father is fond of? You know Stella, Sarah, the young one?’

‘Serena?’

‘That’s the one.’

Shit. Simpering Serena who was so thrilled to play in Italy with Dad. I think she took a personal tour of his own less monumental but similarly inclined tower of Pisa.

‘I know he was exceptionally fond of her, but he moved on, and if I don’t invite her it will look like I’m bothered.’

‘But you are bothered, Mum. Of course, you’re bloody bothered.’

‘Don’t swear, dear,’ she says mildly. I think it’s from force of habit rather than her being bothered.

‘Mum, is this really a good idea? Can’t we just invite friends, you know, real friends?’

‘Rosalie, darling, you really don’t understand, do you? I don’t blame the girls, I blame him.’

‘Oh.’ There really is no answer to that.

‘It takes two to tango, and I can’t blame those silly deluded girls if they’re taken in. I was!’

‘But that’s different! You fell in love with each other, and he—’

‘We did, darling. And I still love him a lot, but he loves himself and the thrill of the chase even more. If he wants to collect pretty things, then we might as well put them on show rather than hiding them in a cupboard, don’t you agree?’

‘Well, yes, but …’ If I thought my head was spinning before, it’s hit a whole different level now. I sit down heavily on the floor and rest my forehead on the palm of my hand. ‘Not at your wedding anniversary party, and not at our home!’

‘Well I don’t see why not. That’s the problem, he puts things in different boxes, and I think we need a reorganisation.’

I’m not sure if she’s lost it or come to her senses.

Is this a menopause thing?

‘I feel very guilty about dragging you halfway round the world with us when you were little.’

Mum has never, ever said anything like this before, but the last thing I want her to feel is guilt. ‘I loved it!’ I did, in the main. I loved the new places, even if I was lonely at times when my parents only had eyes for each other. But it was better than being at home with a mum who was sad and anxious.

‘It was selfish, but I couldn’t let him put his family in a box to come back and play with when he got tired of his new toys.’

‘I’m not sure I like being classed as an old boring toy.’

‘You weren’t an old boring toy, he loved playing with you, he always came back – you were his favourite.’