We settled on ‘Sorry’ and, after a quick skim through the rules, Clio put the board down on the rag rug and we all gathered around it, kneeling or sprawling as we chose. We were halfway through the second round when there was a tentative knock at the door. I threw an anxious glance at Clio, but she just shrugged and mouthed a quick ‘Sorry’ at me.

‘Come in,’ she called.

The door opened and there stood Grace, and behind her, wearing a ridiculous Christmas jumper with Rudolf’s head on it, was Hector.

‘Merry Christmas?’ asked Grace, as if she wasn’t entirely sure.

Well, there was no point me being sniffy about Hector showing up, despite the blatant breach of Clio’s promise. We were in Grace’s house, after all, and hadn’t we just drunk to ‘new beginnings’?

‘Merry Christmas,’ I said and beamed at them both.

‘We’re playing Sorry,’ explained Noah, ‘and I’m winning!’

He wasn’t, but no one picked him up on it.

‘I’m not much good at Sorry,’ Grace told him.

‘That’s because you’re too nice, Mum,’ said Clio. ‘Hector here is a master!’

And then Hector grinned. I did a double take. He looked so much like Dad.

‘Ruthless is my middle name!’ he said with a wolfish smile that was so very familiar to me that it was almost like Dad was in the room with us. Hector looked totally different when he wasn’t scowling. His eyes lit up and his features were softer somehow. I mean, I still thought he was a bit of a dick, but at least I could see that there might be a future for us.

So, we all sat on Clio’s rag rug playing Sorry and Clio kept the drinks flowing and the kids sloped in and out depending on whether they were winning or not. The next time I looked up it was dark outside. All Clio’s lovely little tea lights had burnt out, but she just replenished the holders with a new supply. Imagine that, I thought. Having enough tea lights that you could just keep lighting them without even thinking about saving any for the next time.

Finally, we fell to just chatting, and one by one we climbed back up on to Clio’s huge sofas. I leaned into Marlon, my spine against his chest and our legs intertwined. I was too tipsy now to care what Grace and Hector might think of our relationship, but it didn’t seem to worry them any.

‘You do realise,’ said Clio, as Noah curled himself up in a little ball at her feet and started snoring gently, ‘that you’re all going to have to stay over.’

This had clearly been her plan all along, the scheming little minx, but I was too chilled to object.