‘You’re not a mess,’ she protests. ‘I’d be delighted.’

‘And because I know all about him eating nothing but butterscotch Angel Delight for a year and running naked around the library.’

She frowns, almost comically. ‘He doesn’t do that anymore.’

‘No, I should hope not. He’s, what, forty-eight?’

‘Forty-nine,’ she corrects me, as if that’ll swing it.

‘Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, well …’ Actually, there are so many points, I don’t know where to start.

‘Well, look, as I said, he’s coming over,’ she adds.

‘When?’ I ask cautiously.

‘Towards the end of next month, for a few weeks. He’s doing some filming in Yorkshire, some documentary about steam trains or something …’ She shrugs, clearly nonplussed by his interest in the subject. ‘And when that’s done,’ she continues, brightening, ‘he’s coming to stay with me. So you’ll meet him at last!’

‘That’ll be lovely,’ I say, and in fact I’m curious; I have always been away on holiday, or at my in-laws’ for Christmas, on his previous visits. ‘You’re looking forward to it, aren’t you?’ I add. ‘Having some time with Nick, I mean?’

‘Of course I am,’ Penny says briskly. ‘But, you know, I am very used to pleasing myself and having my own space, and he really does fuss over me …’

‘You could turn out your lights and hide behind the sofa,’ I tease her, ‘pretending not to be in.’

She sniggers. ‘Or send him round to you, get him out of my hair?’

‘Sure! If they still make butterscotch Angel Delight, I’ll be sure to stock up—’

‘Mum!’ Izzy yells as the girls run back towards us. ‘Mum, I want to ask you a question.’

‘What is it?’

She grins broadly, clearly barely able to contain herself. ‘Can I go on holiday to Maeve’s caravan?’

There’s been no mention of this before, and I’m not sure how to react. I have only just come around to the idea of Andy taking her away, without me. ‘Honey, I’m sorry, but you can’t just invite yourself on their holiday.’

‘I haven’t,’ she says firmly. ‘Maeve’s invited me.’

‘Can she come, please?’ Maeve asks. ‘Please, Viv. Please!’

I exhale. ‘We’ll have to see, love. I’d need to check with your mum and dad. Maybe sometime …’

‘She can come this time,’ Maeve announces happily. ‘Mum said it’s all right.’

I turn to Izzy. ‘I don’t think you can. You’re going away with Dad, remember?’

As she looks at her friend and frowns, it dawns on me why Izzy has seemed reticent about the Loch Fyne trip. The girls have clearly been hatching an alternative plan.