‘So, when do you go back?’ her mum asked.

Honestly, it was like her mother could read her mind.

‘Next week. I’ll settle Jamie into school on Monday and then start properly on Tuesday.’

‘Well, I suppose that’s how it is today, isn’t it? Working mums. Brings more problems than it solves in my opinion, but I’m sure you know what you’re doing.’

Chris and Claire exchanged glances, both quietly hoping that Joshua would start a new topic of conversation. He could usually be relied on to charm his grandparents. But then Claire caught the faint glow of backlight from his mobile phone and knew he was secretly messaging under the table. Little bugger. Joshua knew how much she hated that.

‘So, Joshua, are you ready to go back to sixth-form college?’ Claire asked pointedly. ‘Why don’t you tell your grandparents about your new maths teacher?’

As Joshua began talking, in between shovelling huge forkfuls of food into his mouth, Claire and Chris both relaxed back in their chairs. Crisis averted. Once Patricia Sharpe – Claire’s mum – got going on a subject there was no stopping her – not even her long-suffering husband who had given up even trying, years ago. As long as Claire’s dad got his weekly football in, he’d learnt to be content. The time for change had long gone and they were both too old now.

The family were sat around Claire’s dining table: her parents, Chris, herself, and Joshua. Jamie had already gone to bed. It was a monthly ritual that had started soon after Claire and Chris had got married. They had used to alternate – one month at Claire’s, the next month at her parents’, but when the kids came along, it had been easier for her parents to come to their daughter and son-in-law’s home. But although the boys were older now, they’d never gone back to their previous arrangement, so each month Claire found herself cooking a three-course meal. She’d become proficient at it over the years although she didn’t enjoy cooking. To her, it was just another task to be ticked off the never-ending domestic to-do list.

‘Speaking of Lucy,’ said her mother, interrupting her thoughts.

We weren’t, thought Claire, but go on, I know you won’t be happy until you’ve said your piece.

‘Did you do reference checks on her?’

‘Of course!’ replied Claire. ‘I was very thorough.’ Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Joshua start with his phone again and she tried to find his leg under the table to nudge him.

‘Well, that’s good. We don’t want our precious grandson left with just anyone now, do we, James?’

Claire’s father avoided answering by pretending to be engrossed in his peas.