Michael opened his eyes. ‘Leo!’ he said, a bemused smile on his face. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘We’re going to give you a shower and get you up now,’ Romy said brightly, knowing she sounded for all the world like Super Nurse on the stroke ward.

Much later, they were trying to pull Michael’s boxers over his bum, but his skin was still damp from the shower and the cotton was wadding in a roll underneath him. Both Romy and Leo were red-faced and pouring sweat in the sweltering bedroom as they bent over the prostrate figure.

She caught Leo’s eye and felt an uncontrollable giggle form in her chest, seeing a similarly suppressed grin on her son’s hot face.

‘Come on, Michael, make an effort and lift up,’ she encouraged, resisting the mirth that was bubbling up despite her best efforts.

Michael looked up at her, then at Leo and, for a second, Romy worried he would think they were mocking him. But his face broke into a slow smile and she gave up trying to be serious, the laughter bursting out in an explosive snort.

‘Sorry, Michael,’ she spluttered. ‘I know it’s not funny but –’ She couldn’t speak for laughing.

‘You should see … your faces,’ Michael said, with his usual slowness, his dark eyes lighting up as he lay helplessly on his back, bare except for his boxers still bunched round his thighs. ‘I shall sue for defamation. My reputation is in tatters.’

Romy was holding a hand to her mouth, her eyes filled with tears of laughter. Leo probably hadn’t seen her laugh so much with his father in years – which is ironic, she thought.

‘Let’s worry about your knickers first and then your reputation.’

‘Need both,’ Michael retorted, with effort.

‘Good to know you’ve still got some marbles skidding around in there,’ she said.

‘I had … more than my fair share … in the first place.’ Michael’s face contorted as he attempted to lift himself clear of the sheet.

‘And clearly no damage to your arrogance, either,’ Romy said, still grinning, then added, ‘Phew!’ as the boxers finally slid into place and the three of them did a collective high-five.

She realized she had almost enjoyed the process with them all pulling together for the first time. Ever? she asked herself, and decided, Yes, ever. Looking at Leo, she thought he had enjoyed it too, although his expression at times, when he was listening to his parents’ banter, had seemed somewhat bemused.

They settled Michael in the sitting room, Romy hovering while Leo went off to make coffee, perhaps unwilling to watch as his father stuttered, ‘Can I have my … my …’ waving his arm and grunting in frustration until he took a deep breath. ‘You know … the thing I read on. Can’t remember its bloody name.’

‘iPad,’ she said, seeing it on the coffee table and handing it to him.