‘There is nothing about this one I don’t know,’ she says. ‘These walls are paper-thin. Paper!’ she exclaims. ‘And my bedroom was next to Robin’s.’

‘Sandra…’ Robin says, groaning in embarrassment. ‘She doesn’t want to hear this.’

‘She bloody does,’ Freya laughs.

‘I’ll spare you the worst of it, but let’s just say, I knew before his father when Robin Butler lost his virginity.’

Robin jumps up from the table, his hands over his ears. ‘Enough, Sandra. Move on!’ He gets a new bottle of white wine from the fridge and brings it back to the table.

Freya leans across to Sandra when Robin’s back is turned. ‘Which was when?’ she whispers.

‘He must have been, maybe, seventeen? I remember the girl, she was sweet. Carrie, wasn’t it, Robin?’

Robin can only groan again in response.

‘Used to see them down at the playpark, where all the teenagers hung out, drinking their cider. Hand in hand. What happened to her?’

‘No idea,’ Robin grunts. ‘Didn’t care after she dumped me,’ he adds pointedly.

‘Aw,’ Freya says. ‘Broke your little heart.’

‘She did.’ Robin pours himself and Sandra generous glassfuls from the new bottle. ‘Finn was happy, though. Meant he could hang out with me again.’

‘Never was a popular one with the girls, our Finn,’ Sandra explained. ‘Too quiet, too awkward.’ She laughs again. ‘But still got in some spectacular rows with Josie. I would hear it through the walls. Him and Josie on one side, you scrapping with Georgia on the other. Oh,’ she says, with a chortle, ‘the screaming!’

‘Why didn’t you have kids?’ Freya asks, curious. She knows it’s a personal question and she hates it when people ask her, but Sandra doesn’t seem to be the sort of woman to mind.

‘Just never happened,’ Sandra says. ‘Didn’t meet the right man, and then time passed and I was too old.’ She takes a sip from her glass. ‘There wasn’t the same option to go it alone in those days. Being a single parent was something you did because your partner died, like your dad, Robin, or because the shitbag had left, like Josie. You didn’t do it willingly.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Freya says.

But Sandra smiles. ‘Don’t be. I have a brilliant life. I have my freedom. A great job. I’ve travelled, been to places that I would have never been to if I’d had kids. But maybe it would have been nice.’ She pauses for a moment, lost in thought. ‘Still, I had you lot, didn’t I?’ She reaches across and ruffles Robin’s hair affectionately. ‘All the good bits with you kids at my kitchen table, sharing your secrets. I miss your sister, Robin. Georgia called, every week without fail. Did you know that?’

Robin shakes his head, solemn.