‘You … are … kidding.’ Rex was silent for a moment. ‘And Mum?’

‘That’s another odd thing.’ Leo paused as he stepped off the kerb, narrowly missing a massive white four-by-four with blacked-out windows. ‘It’s nearly a month now, and she’s still there all the time – except one weekend – and they seem to be getting on better. I mean, sometimes really laughing together.’ He hesitated. ‘I’ve told her that with Daniel there she could probably go home and she says she will, but not yet … so maybe she’s sort of enjoying being with Dad.’

‘Hmm … interesting. You think this might bring them back together?’ Rex yawned loudly. ‘That’d be one good thing to come out of all this.’

‘Well, let me tell you what Anezka said when I saw her just now.’ Leo went on to fill Rex in.

‘Do you think Mum knows? Because if that really is how Dad feels, it looks like the ball’s in Mum’s court now.’

Both brothers fell silent.

‘Make sure you phone me with updates. I love our chats,’ Rex said affectionately. ‘I feel like I’m a million miles away and I miss you.’

‘Bugger, bugger, bugger,’ Michael muttered, as he sat in his armchair in the sitting room, struggling with the Velcro fastenings on his trainers, his breath coming in awkward gasps. He looked up at Leo and gave a resigned smile.

‘You’re doing well, Dad,’ Leo encouraged.

His father snorted. ‘For a cripple.’

‘Yeah, for a cripple, obviously,’ Leo ventured. This was new, the banter he and his father were establishing. His mother, setting a vase containing some tall purple irises on the coffee table, gave him a warning frown. But his dad just laughed.

‘At least someone round here’s being honest.’

‘I don’t think it’s helpful.’ His mother’s voice was reproachful.

‘Not helpful, perhaps,’ Michael retorted, ‘but refreshingly accurate.’

A moment later, Leo noticed his father staring at him intently, one eye on the door through which his mother had just disappeared to make coffee. He could hear the chuntering of the kettle in the kitchen, the rattle of crockery, the click of a cupboard door.

‘You know your mother’s got a boyfriend?’ His father’s voice was low and conspiratorial.

Leo’s mouth fell open. He gave his father a sceptical look – he was not himself these days. ‘You sure you’ve got that right, Dad?’ he asked.

‘What’s more,’ Michael ignored his son’s condescension, ‘she spent the night with him last week … Tuesday, was it? Wednesday?’ A look of frustration crossed his face. ‘People joke about not remembering the name of the prime minister …’ Then he added, ‘She didn’t get back till nearly noon the next day.’