‘Fine by me. They’re not selling domestic versions of Winifred yet anyway. Or the male equivalent. Listen, you still haven’t come to see what’s going on with Mum. And now they’ve sent me an email about some new treatment they want to give her.’

‘Oh yes? Since Winifred’s magic touch hasn’t brought your mum back from the abyss.’

‘Charlotte, why are you being so horrible? It’s Mum you’re talking about.’

Her face softens, and she takes my hand.

‘Sorry. I know. I’m frustrated with all this tech stuff that never quite does what it’s supposed to. And I know, it’s your mum, and it’s dreadful to see her in such a state. But honestly, John, she’s eighty-seven. How much better can she get? I’m not being horrible. Well, a bit.’

‘They’re saying she’s doing fine, but they want to try using nanobots.’

‘Nanobots? Like my mother had when she was being treated for cancer?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Has your Mum got cancer then?’

‘No, I think they’re using them for lots of things now. I read something about it. Diagnosis and prevention, I think.’

‘Of what, though? We know she has dementia.’

‘They want her more mobile for one thing. I don’t know.’

‘The ones they put in my mother went and found the cancerous cells, and then delivered the chemo to the right places. Then they dissolved, I think.’

‘It worked, didn’t it? And that was six years ago. I bet they’re even better now.’

‘You’re going to give your consent then?’

‘Yes, why not? I can’t imagine it will make things worse.’

‘Robots to care for her, inside and out. I wonder what she’d say about that.’

‘Let’s go and see her and find out. Next weekend?’

‘Can’t. The one after’s OK, I think.’

‘All right then. I’ll say yes to the nanobots, and then by the time we see her, they’ll have been in action for nearly two weeks. Who knows what we might find?’