The taxi driver’s irritated voice made me start. I must have begun drifting off to sleep. Fumbling for cash, I ended up giving him a four-pound tip just because I wanted to get out into the fresh air.

I could hear the sea from here as I gazed up at the many windows of the tall, pale house in the moonlight. It was only ten thirty but there weren’t that many lights on. I wavered, unsure about the etiquette now I was here.

But weren’t they forever telling me I was family too?

I rang the doorbell and waited, pulling my jacket around me against the wind that was knifing into me now. Nothing happened and I rang it again.

A few moments later I saw movement and a light snapped on in the hallway, visible through the large, stained-glass door. The bulky shape of Patrick appeared there and seemed to pause for a second or two, before dipping and then reaching for various bolts. They were very security conscious, Patrick and Julia. But who wouldn’t be in that lovely house?

He peered out at me from the doorway, scrunching his eyes – the same light brown as his daughter’s. A cautious smile that was half-frown appeared on his weathered face.

‘Elliott, what’s wrong, son?’ he said. He didn’t immediately beckon me over the threshold. This was so unfamiliar and strange I was robbed for a moment of my speech.

‘I thought I’d come over,’ I managed at last. He stared back at me as if I had made an outrageous statement. I felt a flash of annoyance now.

‘Is it inconvenient?’ I said. His demeanour changed then and he made a blustery sort of ‘of course not’ sound. But as he began to move to let me in, Julia appeared at his shoulder.

She usually looked so elegant, but without make-up her face was puffy. Her dark hair was scraped back into a ponytail. Despite her weak smile she was now standing in the space opened by Patrick, blocking the threshold of their house.

‘Elliott, darling,’ she said in a low voice. ‘It’s so lovely to see you but I’m afraid Anya is sleeping and we wouldn’t want to wake her, would we?’

This was so bizarre I let out a laugh, which proved to be ill-judged because her face immediately seemed to shut down further.

‘Have you had too much to drink, Elliott?’ she said and Patrick interjected with, ‘Julia’ in a warning tone.

‘I think you’ll find I haven’t had quite enough,’ I said. It had sounded softer, wittier, in my mind and I instantly regretted it.

The next thing I knew, Patrick was grabbing a coat and car keys and saying he would drive me home ‘in a jiffy’. Then I was somehow inside Patrick’s big, new-smelling car and we were driving along in silence.