‘Mum! Stop it! You’re so embarrassing!’ Though Sol seemed to find the whole thing hilarious.

‘But we won’t discuss contraception,’ continued Liz.

‘No we won’t!’ Cat was dying.

‘Because, y’know, being Catholic an’ all that – well, it’s a sin, isn’t it? So we’ll leave it up to your own consciences.’

‘On the other hand,’ Huw interjected, ‘we don’t want to hear the patter of tiny feet just yet, do we?’

‘Right. Stop it. Subject well and truly closed!’ said Catrin, her face burning with humiliation, and she headed upstairs to make up the little sofa bed in the tiny box room, ambitiously referred to as the study.

On Christmas Eve they’d all gone to Midnight Mass, which had been so magical. And despite her best efforts to remain a committed agnostic, Catrin couldn’t help but feel an inexplicable euphoria as she queued up to take communion in St Theodore’s Church, with the boy she loved alongside her mad but lovely family. She thought how much her friends loved him too. Not that she’d seen much of them over Christmas.

There’d been a couple of festive flies in the seasonal ointment, of course: one was the shocking discovery made by Judith about George, and the other was the tension between Lana and Gareth, especially evident at the Kelly house on New Year’s Eve when the couple had spent the whole evening not speaking to each other. Lana had only stayed a few hours, announcing she had to leave early to get back to Guildford for the matinée the next day.

It was still dark outside when Catrin and Sol got up for their New Year’s hike and the house was hangover-silent. They packed their rucksack picnic, donned as many warm clothes as they could and headed off, the faint winter sun doing its best to brighten up the icy January morning.

After walking for two miles, they reached the summit. The three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view took their breath away – as did the frost-filled air and the fact that they’d been climbing for over an hour. Sol reached out his hand for Cat’s and they stood there in the heavy quiet, taking it all in, the view that stretched for ever all around them. There was no one else there. Just the two of them, snuggled up in woolly hats and gloves and scarves and love.

‘Come on,’ said Sol, and he led her over to a rock where they could sit and ponder. ‘Shall we have some coffee?’ he asked.

‘No, I’m OK actually,’ she answered, mesmerized by the view.

‘A biscuit then,’ he carried on, opening the rucksack.

‘No, let’s wait till we’ve walked back down, shall we?’ she said, as she gazed into the distance.

But Sol had taken out a Tupperware box containing some home-made Welsh cakes. ‘Please have one, Cat.’

She looked at him as if he was having a funny turn. ‘You OK?’

‘Yeah, I just … I just want you to have one.’

‘But I don’t want one, Sol …’