‘It might be freezing up there,’ Esther countered, folding tinfoil round the sandwiches she had made, and checking that the lid on the thermos was tight. ‘I’m taking one anyway.’

‘Fine. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.’

‘Yeah, like that’s an option.’

‘Picnic.’

‘Check. Which you will be in charge of.’ Esther waved the tinfoil bundles before dropping them into a recyclable shopping bag.

‘Phone.’

‘Check.’

‘Are the kids coming?’

‘Yup. Meeting us there.’

‘And Marcus?’

‘He said he’d rather gouge out his own eyeballs,’ Esther replied dryly.

‘Can’t wait to see his play.’

‘Me too. If I’m still alive.’

Viv chuckled. ‘I’m not a betting woman, but I would say the odds of that, happily, are in your favour. By the way, is Lucas showing up?’

‘Lucas? God, no. It was Dylan’s present, and nothing to do with Lucas. Besides, he’s busy with his work, as per, not to mention the increasingly grand wedding plans – which I know he will be hating, by the way…’ Esther started to laugh and checked herself, too distracted even to enjoy sniping. ‘And he has his hands full with John, of course, who’s apparently holding on remarkably. The kids say that, like them, he’s been visiting a fair bit, which is amazing. As is the fact of it no longer being my business, though Marcus and I are going to pop down over Easter.’ She set the packed bag on the table. ‘Good to go, and, Viv, I cannot thank you enough for offering to do this.’ She went round the table to give her a hug. ‘I couldn’t cope with eating breakfast, let alone driving a car.’

‘I shan’t watch,’ Viv declared archly, some ten minutes later, when they were on their way. ‘And, for the record, I still think you’re mad.’

‘Yes, so do the children, which is sort of marvellous…’ Esther managed a wry smile. ‘To be the one alarming them for once, instead of the other way round.’

It felt less marvellous, the closer they got to the M4. ‘Tell me stuff,’ she begged, with Viv having fallen silent too. ‘I need not to think. How are the kids and Brian getting on with their bicycles in Italy?’

‘Apparently, they’re not missing me at all, and ditto. The house to myself for an entire week. God, I love it. I get so much more done. I eat at stupid times. I binge on box sets. It’s the perfect holiday.’

‘But only because it is a holiday,’ Esther pointed out with feeling, the memory of her own aloneness still vivid. ‘You know they’re coming back, which is precisely why you can enjoy them being away.’

‘True, O wise one.’ Viv threw her a look. ‘You truly are wise, Esther. In fact, you’d have made a much better psychotherapist than me…’

‘No bollocks this morning, please, Viv, I’m not up to it.’