‘Exactly! Nothing! You’re the one trying to prove some conspiracy theory all the time, staring up at the sky like that, all moody!’

‘Be quiet!’

Dad slams down his mug of coffee and stands up with a clatter. He strides to the tired fridge, takes out the fruit juice and sloshes it into a glass, which he slams on the table, shouting all the while.

‘It’s not going to make it go away, you carrying on doing the lottery and hunting for bargains in shops! Your account is full of money!’

Now Auntie Annu gets up with a clatter, too. She also wants to throw something somewhere, so she grabs the glasses out of her hair and flings them on top of a pile of papers.

‘What’s that got to do with anything? You’re not going to make it go away by lying in bed all summer wearing sunglasses!’

Then Annu and Dad stand in silence for a long time. Annu twists the piece of paper with her fingers.

‘Was it the jackpot?’ Dad asks in the end.

Auntie Annu nods.

‘I didn’t know that someone could win twice,’ Dad says.

‘Well, nor did I, for feck’s sake.’

I slurp milk from the bowl and wipe my mouth on my sleeve, but Dad doesn’t say anything, even though usually I’m not allowed, because old milk stinks.

‘I’ve got to think about this for a bit,’ Auntie Annu says.

Then she and Dad sit down again, looking thoughtful. No one mentions a Jackpot Cake.

‘I think I’ll go and get some sleep,’ Auntie Annu says eventually.

She glances at Dad and a giggle escapes from both of them, which stops as abruptly as it started. Looks like the argument’s over.

‘Blimey,’ Dad says.

And then Auntie climbs up to the room in the tower and falls asleep.

In the afternoon, Dad sends me to ask if Auntie would like to come and have coffee, but Auntie just snores. In the evening, Dad knocks on the door and makes a lot of noise on the steps to the tower, but Auntie doesn’t move.

‘I wonder if she’s got a migraine,’ Dad says.

In the morning, Dad goes to shake Auntie, but she just whines, pushes Dad’s hand off her shoulder and turns over.

‘Are you all right? It’s Thursday,’ Dad says.

‘I’ll just sleep for a bit,’ Auntie Annu murmurs.

All Dad’s attempts to rouse Auntie Annu fail.

Finally, he rings the health centre.

‘How am I supposed to bring her there?’ Dad snaps into the phone. ‘She sleeps in a tower on the second floor. She’s heavy!’

Dad’s put on hold. He drums his fingers against the kitchen window.

At last the nurse comes back and says a doctor will make a home visit in the afternoon.

‘I thought something like this would happen,’ Dad mutters to himself.

‘Like what?’ I ask.