‘I watch anything that moves these days.’ His father seemed in a high old mood today, which was encouraging, as Leo was in charge all weekend. His mum was just getting her stuff ready, and then she was off until Sunday night. ‘In fact,’ his dad was saying, ‘I’m sure you’re aware of today’s one-dayer: India at Trent Bridge … if you’re interested.’ He gave what seemed to Leo to be an almost shy smile.

Leo grinned. ‘Wow, Dad. I’m there! Hope the rain holds off.’ He’d never in a million years thought he’d be sitting watching cricket with his father. He was touched that he’d obviously planned their day and didn’t know what to say. This was so unlike the father he’d grown up with, who always seemed to hold him and Rex at arm’s length, just homing in for the occasional lecture on working hard, getting good marks at school and being ambitious.

‘Are you going to stand there all day with your mouth open? Or can you manage a coffee for your poor old dad?’ Michael was still smiling as Leo went over to the pod machine his mum had bought – despite Michael’s objections – because it was easier for him to manage. But as he unhooked the water cylinder from the back and filled it with tap water, he heard his name barked and jumped.

‘He can do that himself.’ His mother was standing at the kitchen door, looking fierce. ‘Don’t run around after him, Leo. He’s perfectly capable of making you a cup of coffee.’

Leo pulled a face. ‘Hi, Mum.’

Her expression relaxed. ‘Hi, sweetheart. Sorry, it’s just your father has become a lazy old bugger, haven’t you, Michael?’

Michael shrugged. ‘And you’ve become an annoying old harridan,’ he retorted.

‘Well, you’re shot of me for a couple of days. You can bully your son to your heart’s content.’

Leo held his breath. He didn’t want to listen to his parents bickering. And whereas there didn’t seem any real heat to their exchange – as if they’d both heard it all before – it felt as if there was something raw and uncomfortable between them today, the sparring merely a cover for a deeper unease.

‘Are you going to the cottage?’ Leo asked, wanting to defuse the atmosphere.

‘No, Hastings. Staying with Bettina.’

‘That’ll be fun,’ he said brightly, although his mother showed no enthusiasm for the plan.

She didn’t reply, her gaze silently levelled at his dad. Leo couldn’t work out what his mother’s look meant. It seemed jaundiced, hostile … almost as if she were on the verge of saying something cutting to him.

But all she finally said was: ‘OK, I’ll be off. You know where I am.’

He nodded. ‘Have a good time.’

His mother gave him a strained smile. ‘Thanks.’ Then she turned to walk away.