‘Darling, it’s not mean,’ Esther assured him coolly, handing Lucas a scouring pad he hadn’t spotted, sitting in a saucer by the sink. ‘By all means call Iris.’ She paused, no doubt recognising the name, as Lucas had. ‘But your grandfather, as you know very well, is independent, not to mention proud of the fact. Besides…’ she threw Lucas a glance ‘…you could be seeing a lot more of him yourself soon, couldn’t you, if you do end up going to college in Manchester?’

‘And Matteo and I will totally visit,’ Lily piped up, full of brightness and bustle as she returned knives and forks to the cutlery drawer.

‘He says he doesn’t want big goodbyes,’ Dylan went on mournfully. ‘That we are to just go.’

Lucas balanced the saucepan upside down in the drainer. ‘And are you looking forward to getting back to London, Dylan? Catching up with your old friends?’

Dylan exchanged looks with his sister and mother. ‘Actually, I’m kind of hoping to meet up with a new friend soon. I’ve been telling Mum and…’

‘Dylan has met someone,’ Lily chipped in gleefully, but also sounding impressed. ‘Gaming. Some crazy Australian girl who thinks he’s nice – what are the chances of that?’

Dylan gave a bashful shake of his head. ‘But first, Dad…’ he took a moment to cast an affectionate glare at his sister ‘…I thought I might hang out in Cambridge for a bit, with you… and Lil, of course… and then head back to London in the new year?’

‘And this catering course, where is that going to fit in?’ Lucas asked, trying not to mind that a fair amount of planning had clearly gone on in his absence. He looked down at the plate Esther had placed in his hands. Two pieces of toast covered with drifts of butter and marmite, cut into triangular quarters and arranged in a neat, enticing circle.

‘I need to get a Level Two in cooking or technical first, which I’m not sure yet whether to do in Cambridge or London. They also want four minimum grade 4 GCSEs, including English and Maths, but obviously I’ve already got those.’ He grinned in triumph, and Lucas did not need Esther firing eye-bolts to know not to say anything downbeat.