‘Will someone get that, please?’ Liz yelled. ‘I’m about to goldenize the meringue!’ (‘Goldenize’ was a term her mother had invented, and it made Catrin smile to hear it again.)

Tom said, ‘Ah, that’ll be Father O’Leary.’

‘You are kiddin’ me,’ Catrin said. ‘Surely to God she didn’t invite him?’ She peeped into the hall and watched her father striding to the door.

Standing on the other side of it, surrounded by all her worldly possessions and trying desperately not to cry, was Judith.

‘I’m really sorry,’ she stammered. ‘Could I borrow two quid for the taxi?’

Catrin’s mother abandoned the Alaska (thankfully rescued by Aunty Treen) to see what was going on. In between sobs, Judith told them how she’d arrived home to an empty house and gone upstairs to her bedroom to find all her things packed up, ‘Like the whole room had been stripped!’ And that on the bed lay a note from Patricia, which Judith held out for them to see:

Take your stuff and leave your key.

You are no longer welcome in this house.

Quickly assessing the situation, Liz Kelly launched into Supermum mode, taking control and instructing Tom and Huw to carry Judith’s stuff to the spare room. She told her she could stay with them as long as she needed – ‘Tia castle mia castle’ (Tom whispered casa under his breath, but Liz was oblivious) – and gave her an all-encompassing hug. She insisted Judith come and join the party and Grampa Lewis thrust a plate of sausage rolls under her nose. When it came to overwhelming love, there was no escaping that of the Kellys.

The next morning both girls were downstairs by six a.m.

Catrin had hardly slept. Which wasn’t surprising, given the amount of traffic zooming around her head as she desperately tried to recall the digits Sol had written on that piece of paper. She’d stared at it long enough. Why couldn’t she bloody remember? And when she hadn’t been thinking about Sol, she’d been worrying about her A-level results – what if she’d messed up?

Judith made them each a cup of strong tea, which they both decided was the most-missed thing from their time abroad.

Taking a big slurpy gulp, Catrin broached the subject of Judith’s family situation. ‘What you gonna do, babes?’ she asked gently.

‘When I’ve got my results, I’m gonna go and find my dad. In work or whatever. ’Cos where the hell was he last night? He could’ve come here looking for me. He knew when I was due home and, I mean, it’s obvious I’m either at yours or Lana’s. Plus – he’d have seen my stuff was all gone.’

‘Thing is though, Jude, who knows what pressure your mum has put on him?’

‘You mean Patricia. I’m not calling her Mum any more. She’s lost the right to be called that.’

Catrin noticed that Judith’s hands were shaking as she raised the mug of tea to her mouth. She reached out, trying to comfort her friend.