‘He’s getting some help now. Hopefully he’ll be able to kick the booze.’

‘And will you go back home then?’

I chewed my lip. ‘I’ve gotta go back sometime. But look at this place. It’s like being on holiday all the time.’ I splayed my arms out and spun around. Farah laughed, so I did it some more but then I had to stop because it was making my head spin.

The lambs were on form and did a series of lamb races for her like they were showing off. Daenerys and Tyrion ate grass out of her hand and I swear if bluebirds had come and plaited her hair and squirrels had tied her laces she couldn’t have looked more like Snow White. I retold the story of their birth, leaving out my screaming and retching and she looked suitably awed.

‘I totally get why you love it here. And Maggie…’ She looked back at the house. ‘She’s off the scale.’

‘True dat.’ We both nodded our agreement.

We called on Colin whose aggressive attitude I had bigged up but he stood there mildly chewing grass and looking calmer than a kitten. I swear he did it on purpose. At least I could show her the repairs I’d had to do to the gate. I think she believed me.

When we got back Maggie was putting in the Yorkshire puddings. I’d timed it perfectly, saving the best for last. We washed our hands and I took her through to the living room where Rusty came to meet us in the doorway and then went straight back to her pups.

‘This is Rusty. She’s staying with us for a while because she had a difficult birth. There were six puppies but she lost four.’

‘Oh, you poor thing.’ Farah knelt next to Rusty; the dog licked her hand and gave a thump of her tail. ‘Can I touch the puppies?’

‘Sure. Go ahead.’

‘What are they called?’

‘They don’t have names. Do you want to name them?’ It wouldn’t do any harm. Maggie said they can’t even hear until they’re two weeks old. Farah beamed a smile back at me. ‘The black and white one is a boy and this one’s a girl.’

‘How about Sheldon and Penny? I love The Big Bang Theory. Do you?’

‘Oh yeah. I used to watch it, like, all the time.’ Possible slight exaggeration but I have seen it. Farah eyed the black and white photo on the table.

‘Is that Maggie?’

‘Yeah. The baby she’s holding, that’s her son. He died.’

‘That’s so sad. How old was he?’

‘I dunno. It’s not something we’ve talked about.’ There was a long pause where I didn’t know what to say and I think Farah felt the same. She was petting the puppies when Maggie called us through for lunch.

*