‘Are you worried about how Nick will cope?’ I ask.

‘A little bit, I guess. But he seemed totally unfazed when I first told him about this and his stance on it hasn’t changed a bit,’ she frowns. ‘Literally, it’s like he thinks having the kids on his own for a week is going to be a complete doddle.’

‘Maybe this is what he needs,’ suggests Zaza.

‘He might even enjoy it,’ I shrug.

‘Oh, he’ll love it in so many ways and he’s always so playful and fun with them, you know. When you have one-on-one time with your kids there are moments when it’s absolutely amazing and wholesome – where everyone is laughing and they look at you with this magic in their eyes, but then there are also the meltdowns and the tantrums you struggle to navigate through. It’s just not that easy. Kids aren’t easy! You can’t give them one hundred per cent of your attention all the time,’ she protests, peering into her cup as though willing more alcohol to appear. ‘Anyway, I’ve popped some homemade dinners in the fridge and the freezer along with details of how to heat them scribbled on top, and Post-it notes on anything electrical and useful that he hasn’t touched before – like the washing machine.’

‘He doesn’t know how to wash his own clothes?’ gasps Zaza.

‘Well, he probably does,’ Vicky backtracks. ‘I dunno, he must’ve done it before we met. I’m not sure how we fell into such stereotypical roles within the house when we both believe in equality, but we have.’ She looks perplexed at the discovery, as if it hadn’t really occurred to her before.

‘Are you happy?’ I find myself asking.

‘I will be if we can find some more bubbles,’ Vicky smiles, shaking her empty glass at me, her lips pressing into a smile.

Although I can sense there’s more going on than she’s saying, I don’t push the matter and instead peer over the seats in front to see if any might be on its way. Sadly the airline staff have their life jackets on and seatbelts in hand, ready to give us the standard safety briefing.

‘We’ll get some later,’ I whisper.

‘Plenty of time,’ she agrees.

‘I’ve got an idea,’ announces Zaza. ‘Let’s all watch the same film. We have to press play at the same time. It’ll be just like a silent disco version of going to the cinema only with crappy screens.’

‘Ooh! Let’s have a look what’s on!’ Vicky giggles, snatching up the magazine from the seat in front of her and flicking through its pages, tilting it towards us so that we can see too.