Ellen knows I want to scream, but I can’t do it in front of her. Does Tom think I’m a fool? Someone’s car broke down! I hope he hasn’t gone playing golf, leaving me here for the day to suffer this party on my own. Maybe he asked Ellen to come over early, knowing he wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t. Would he pretend he wasn’t going to play golf and then go and play it? He has become something of a stranger to me in the past twenty-four hours.

Ellen opens the press and takes out the vacuum cleaner.

‘Amber,’ she calls out. ‘Take the boys to their room and stay with them. We’ll have this fixed up in no time.’

With the mop taking the brunt of my anger we get the room back in shape with little or no conversation.

Ellen is not the type of woman to make excuses for her son. Since the day we got married I’ve always felt she supported me – always showing empathy for my dilemmas, offering to help when she can. Maybe she was grateful I’d taken Tom off her hands. Or maybe she just liked me, saw I was doing my best. With my own mom dying so young, it was good to know she was there if I needed her.

Taking the band from her long, dark hair that she gets coloured on my staff discount every six weeks, Ellen shakes her head and looks around the room.

At the centre of the table rests the cake; Thomas the Tank Engines at both ends. Percy and Gordon leading the convoy of sponge and icing, James and Edward securing it from the rear. All is saved. Ellen smiles across the table at me.

‘Wonderful, Sally,’ she says. ‘Everything looks lovely. Well done. Have you got any candles?’

‘Shit.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll pop down to the shop and get some.’

‘No, I’ll get Amber to go, you don’t have to.’ But Ellen insists, says she could do with the walk.

There’s still over an hour before the crowd arrives. Taking my phone from my bag I check to see if Tom has tried to make contact. Nothing. Just a message from one of the school parents telling me her son won’t be able to make it. Great. There are too many coming anyway. Refusals are very welcome.

I prepare some snacks for the adults – cheese, crackers, pate, hummus, dips – before heading to the boys’ bedroom where I find Amber sitting on the bed reading them a story. Cian and Aaron sit either side of her looking at the pages as she turns them. My heart warms. This is their day. Cian and Aaron’s. Their memories. Nothing should spoil it for them.