Hugh pushed to his feet, folded his newspaper neatly and said, “Lydia, the Dad Taxi is leaving in five minutes sharp.” He turned to Helen then and said, “Millie will need to hurry or she’ll have to walk.”

She hated being called Millie.

And there she was, her eyes made up in dark flicks of eyeliner, her hair pulled into a high ponytail, the ends dyed purple, and the waistband of her school skirt rolled up one too many times. Mills sauntered into the kitchen, ponytail swinging, kissed Helen lightly on the cheek and leaned over Matt to grab a banana from the bowl in the centre of the table. Her skirt rode up dangerously high, revealing a flash of pure white knickers.

“Ah, there you are. We’re leaving in five if you would like a lift?” Hugh said. “And unroll the skirt, please.”

“Hugh, tut tut. You shouldn’t be looking,” she said with a sly smile.

Hugh blushed around his collar.

“Mills, roll down the skirt,” Helen said.

She looked at her mother for a second before shrugging and unrolling the waistband until the hem sat at a slightly more appropriate length.

Helen hid a small smile. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

“Right, wagons roll!” Hugh announced.

Bags were thrown over shoulders, mugs were drained and goodbyes were tossed about in a flurry of activity.

Then the front door closed and Helen was alone again.

She exhaled.

The table was littered with breakfast debris, with only Lydia managing to get her plate to the sink. Matt’s toast sat untouched, so she fed it to Clive, the peanut butter making his tongue smack against the roof of his mouth. Matt had taken the banana with him at least. Helen took that as a win.

She walked through to the lounge and stared out of the picture window. Matt was still in the driveway trying to get his car to start. He hated that car, but Hugh was big on getting the kids to learn the value of money, so he made sure Matt had worked in order to save up for most of it. Helen could see him now, scowling as he banged on the dashboard. One more turn of the key and the engine coughed into life. He reversed quickly in a cloud of gravel dust and tore off down the driveway, grinding the gears.

They could afford to buy him a new car. The house was mortgage-free, Helen had some of her parents’ inheritance left, although she was saving much of it for Mills’ future, and Hugh had a good income as a head of year and history teacher. They didn’t live extravagantly. No expensive annual holidays or fancy toys. Their family car was a Skoda, for god’s sake. But Hugh was adamant that it would be giving in, spoiling Matt, and what we do for one, we have to do for the others.