‘Charlie!’ he called out, and hastened to catch up with them. ‘Charlie Savigear, is that a ghost or a mirage?’ He removed his hat and hung it on the newel post as he trotted up the steps. ‘You’ve actually got your arse in gear and come to see us, have you? What a privilege.’

Charlie smiled and they shook hands. ‘It’s overdue, I can’t deny.’

‘You needn’t sound so shocked about it, Arthur,’ she said. ‘He told us he was coming.’

‘Yes, but he’s said that before and left us crying in our cottage pie.’

‘In my defence,’ said Charlie, looking guilty now, ‘I never knew that there’d be cottage pie.’

Her husband slapped him on the shoulder, steering him towards the kitchen door. ‘It’s hot enough out here to bake one, that’s for sure. Did Florence offer you a drink already?’

She answered for him: ‘Yes, of course she did.’

‘If it were up to me, she’d have her feet up and the radio on until her waters break.’

‘I was about to make a sandwich for the lad,’ she said.

‘Oh, nonsense. I’ll do that.’

She turned to Charlie. ‘Do you see what I’ve been putting up with?’

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘but I’m on Mr Mayhood’s side with this one.’

‘That means you can have the end piece of the loaf. No water for you either.’

She wouldn’t let him know it, but she couldn’t quite believe that he was here again. The doubts had been there, nettling her since Friday, when he’d phoned to say that he’d be visiting. He hadn’t given them his reasons, just that he’d been thinking of them and was keen to celebrate her news. They weren’t soft enough to think that nothing in particular had prompted his desire to see their faces, but they hadn’t pressed him.

She sliced two lemons, put them in the jug and filled it. They sat together at the kitchen table, drinking, and her husband took his shirt off to remove the straps of his prosthetic. Once he’d hung the arm upon the spindle of his chair, he looked more comfortable and said, ‘So what’s it going to be, d’you think? A boy or girl?’

‘I don’t know,’ Charlie said, ‘but there’s a good chance it’ll be an architect.’

Her husband said, ‘I wouldn’t count on that,’ and gulped down a long mouthful. ‘Not unless it takes after its mother.’

‘It really is the best of news. Congratulations to you both.’ Charlie raised his glass. ‘Any kid of yours will be the luckiest on earth.’

‘We shouldn’t toast with water or it mightn’t be,’ she said.

‘Oh. Right you are.’

‘I’ll fetch us something stronger in a bit,’ her husband said. ‘We’ll have a proper toast. It’s good to have you back here, Charlie. We appreciate the visit.’

‘As I said – long overdue.’

She sensed that Charlie had another thought he needed to express and that too many sets of eyes were trained on him. ‘Who wants mustard, then?’ she said, and went to get the bread.