She put Edwina on to speakerphone so they could all hear.

‘But why?’ asked Judith.

‘I’ve no idea!’ said Edwina. ‘He rang me up half an hour ago and told me that from now on he would be sorting out the cleaning and that my services are no longer required.’

This in itself would have been worrying enough, but two days ago, Edwina had begun divulging information about a whole load of other untoward activity going on in Patricia’s house. ‘Like, for starters,’ Edwina had told Judith, ‘Adrian opens all of her bank statements.’

‘What?’ Judith was gobsmacked. ‘But my mother’s always kept such a careful eye on her outgoings.’

‘Well, not any more. And he keeps hold of her cashpoint card—’

‘I’m surprised she’s even got a cashpoint card!’ interrupted Judith.

‘Adrian persuaded her to sign up for one. Said it was easier. And last month he turned up in a brand-new car. Well, he sells Betterware, for God’s sake, so how come he can afford a new Fiesta all of a sudden?’

When George had died, it was revealed that not only had he given Patricia the house, he’d also set up a decent-sized nest-egg in the form of a pension, which would leave his ex-wife financially comfortable for the rest of her days. At the time, Judith had found this frustrating. ‘After the way she treated him, Gar! I mean, why?’

‘Because he was a good bloke,’ said Gareth.

Knowing this made Edwina’s recent revelation all the more worrying, because if, as they suspected, Adrian Oliver was taking over Patricia’s life, then he was probably influencing what she did with her money.

On top of all this, Catrin kept going on and on at Judith to come and see her mother more often.

‘Talk to her, Jude. I know she’s annoying, but you need to ask her what’s going on. You need to communicate!’

Judith had been irritated by this. But probably only because she knew Catrin was right, even if she was behaving a tad too zealously about it all.

Admittedly Judith hadn’t seen her mother since Christmas, but she’d spoken to her on the phone a month ago and not once had she mentioned any of these developments.

‘He describes himself as her carer now,’ continued Edwina.

‘What – and she’s paying him for this?’ asked Jack as he grated some cheese on to their French onion soup.

‘Well, she says she’s not, but he’s been on holiday three times in the past year. How’s he afforded that? I’m telling you, Judith, that man’s a wrong ’un.’

Sat around the dinner table an hour later, they relayed Edwina’s information to a bunged-up, runny-nosed Gareth, who did his usual devil’s advocate bit.

‘Thing is, babes, if your mother wants to splash out on him, then surely it’s up to her?’

‘Yeah, of course, and if someone’s mad enough to want to spend time with my mother, then the least they deserve is a brand-new Ford Fiesta!’