‘So, what happened to you on your birthday?’ asked her mum, hand on hip. ‘There’s usually a tale to tell.’

Minnie didn’t want to lend fuel to her mother’s narrative about her birthday bad luck. She shrugged.

‘Not much – went to Alan’s for dinner, then on to a party.’ Minnie nipped through to give her father his beer, then came back to the kitchen and opened her own. ‘Oh, but guess who I met, Mum?’ Her mother had started chopping onions. ‘Well? Who do you think I ran into?’ Minnie asked again.

‘If it’s a celebrity, I won’t have heard of them. Unless it’s Paul Hollywood because his is the only voice I hear around here,’ she said loudly. ‘Your father is obsessed with that show. You know he watches them all on repeat?’

Minnie didn’t know which it was better to reveal first – her meeting with Tara and Quinn, or the news about her business failing and needing to move home. Part of her would relish seeing the look on her mum’s face when she mentioned Tara’s name; no part of her would relish admitting that No Hard Fillings was broke. She decided to go with the more relishing option.

‘Have you spoken to Will recently?’ asked her mother, veering off on to a new topic.

‘No.’ Minnie rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

‘Says he’s put an offer in on a house out there, somewhere in Bondi. So impressive at his age – we didn’t manage to buy till we were past forty.’

‘Well, it’s probably cheaper out there,’ Minnie said, feeling her jaw tense.

‘I don’t know how you’re ever going to get on the property ladder, Minnie. We were saving for eighteen years to get our deposit together.’

‘Well, I don’t think my generation are going to be able to buy, are we,’ said Minnie, pulling the metal tab from her beer can and squeezing it into her palm.

‘You’re brother’s buying.’

‘Quinn Hamilton! I met Quinn Hamilton,’ said Minnie loudly.

Connie dropped the knife on the chopping board and Minnie savoured the moment – finally her mother was listening.

‘And I met his mother, Tara. She lives in a mansion in Primrose Hill. She’s ever so elegant, she looks like a film star,’ Minnie pinched her lips together.

‘Tara Hamilton? You went to Tara Hamilton’s house?’ her mother asked, her voice lacking any of its usual resonance.

‘Yup,’ said Minnie, taking another swig of beer and leaning back against the fridge, one foot up against its door.

Her mother frowned at her, then went back to aggressively chopping onions.

‘Well, I’m sure it’s easy to look like a film star when you’re a millionaire, living the bleeding life of Riley.’