‘Can we have crisps?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Orange squash?’

‘Coming right up,’ I say, smiling.

‘D’you have straws?’

‘I think so.’

‘Curly ones?’

‘We might have one lying about somewhere, I’ll have a look—’

‘And I want to eat on the grass,’ he snaps, ‘not at the table.’

‘No problem.’ You can have your picnic on the grass, and then you can invade Poland, will you be happy with that?

Perhaps, I decide a little later, as the three of us sit there eating together, it’s just as well that Rose didn’t view me as being suitable for leading teams of youngsters to greatness. What chance of success would I have if I can’t keep a sole visiting seven-year-old under control? As it is, Ludo got hold of Izzy’s knitted sandwich – which she wanted to be part of the picnic – and has now dowsed it in orange juice and thrown it over the fence, into his own back garden. As she yells in fury I scramble over the fence to retrieve it.

That’s it, I decide as I clamber back. I’ve had enough. He needs to know what’s acceptable and it’s just not on, this rudeness, this behaving like—

‘Hi,’ Tim calls out, appearing at his back door and waving. ‘We’re back!’

About sodding time! ‘Hi, Tim,’ I exclaim, grinning. I’d never have imagined that the sight of a short, bald quantity surveyor would fill me with such joy.

He comes closer and beams over the fence. ‘Hey, guys. Hi, Ludo! So, how is everyone?’

‘Hi, Dad,’ Ludo mutters.

‘We’re good, Tim,’ I reply. ‘We’re great. How are Chrissie and the baby—’

Before he can answer she appears at the door, looking pale and drawn but blissfully happy, with their new, pink-faced daughter wrapped in a yellow blanket in her arms.

‘Ludo, darling,’ she cries, spotting him. ‘Look, it’s your new baby sister. Isn’t she lovely?’

He eyes her across the fence as if she’s showing him a new kettle.

‘Hey, Ludo,’ Tim blusters, sliding a hand over his shiny head, ‘we’ll come round so you can meet her properly. She’s so looking forward to meeting you.’

It’s lovely to see how thrilled Tim and Chrissie are and, naturally, my eyes brim with tears as I have a little hold of the baby. In fact I almost feel sorry for Ludo as we all coo and fuss over her. Her name is Lara. Tim and Chrissie gush thanks to Izzy and me for taking care of Ludo.

‘So,’ Tim announces, ‘we’d better get you home, Ludes, and leave these guys in peace.’

He glances round at the scattered remains of our picnic. ‘Don’t want to come home yet.’

‘C’mon, love,’ Chrissie says, ‘you’ve been here all week. Don’t you want our family all to be together?’

‘No.’ Ludo shakes his head. ‘No, I don’t.’