It impressed her how her daughter was able to take a compliment. On the rare occasions when someone said something nice to Bess about her appearance, she would instantly rebuff it, batting it away with her hand and making light of it as her tongue roamed the crevice of her crumbled tooth that had once been white and whole. The way Natalie accepted her words made her seem worldly and confident, two things Bess was not. She felt the smallest flicker of envy at the life her professional daughter led.

‘But stop changing the subject,’ Natalie said, breaking free and putting her hands on her hips. ‘You can’t be smoking – not at your age, in fact not at any age, but definitely not at yours.’

‘I don’t care, not really. The odd one doesn’t count.’ Bess had never wanted her kids to see her weaknesses, her failings, knowing they had already surpassed her in terms of achievement and prospects. She didn’t want them to think any less of her than they might already when they got out into the world and realised she had done very little with her life, other than cook countless bland suppers and vacuum the hall carpet to within an inch of its life.

‘Actually, it does count, but I’ll let you off, as it’s your birthday.’ Natalie reached for the fancy cream bag with a black edge and black ribbon tied in a bow on top and handed it to her. ‘Happy birthday, Mum.’

‘Oh darling, you shouldn’t have done that!’ Bess took a seat at the kitchen table and took her time, undoing the grosgrain ribbon carefully, with the express intention of reusing it. She pulled apart the stiff paper bag, whose quality was evident to the touch, and reached in to grab the square box, which was swathed in delicate tissue; inside that sat a tightly packed glass candle. The sweet scent that wafted from the gift was intoxicating.

‘Oh, Nats, this smells heavenly!’

‘It’s my favourite: lime, basil and mandarin – it’s Jo Malone.’

‘Ooh, well, I hope he doesn’t want it back – it’s amazing!’ Bess held the glass votive to her nose and inhaled the stunning fresh scent. ‘I shall save it for best and light it in the front room. Thank you, Nats, I love it.’

‘You’re welcome. What did Dad get you?’

‘Oh, a lovely orchid.’ She pointed to the potted plant sitting on the drainer, which had shed some of its blooms.

‘I thought you hated orchids?’

‘Yes, but Dad doesn’t know that.’

‘Evidently.’

‘And a card with a duck on it, apparently, which he can’t find.’

‘Surprise surprise,’ Natalie laughed.

‘Yep, I know – most unlike him to misplace something. Anyway, I’m sure it’ll turn up, and tonight we’re getting a chippy tea, if you’re around?’