‘I’ve got a teaching post out there,’ I say. ‘That’s just as important to me.’ How can I explain that I need to do this? I need to get away. I need to be in a place where I’m not frightened to look over my shoulder, where I’m not just living to pay my mortgage, where I can be surrounded by children every day, children who might just need me.

My mother looks horrified. ‘You’re not going to be living in a mud hut in the middle of nowhere, are you?’

‘No. No. No.’

Edie nudges me.

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Actually, I am.’ I can feel myself smiling and it spreads right inside.

‘When am I going to see you?’ my mother says, anguish creasing her brow. ‘How will I visit you?’

‘Get on a plane. It isn’t Outer Mongolia.’ I pause. ‘Well, it nearly is.’

My mother turns her attention to my sister. ‘And you’re remarkably quiet, Edie.’

‘I’m pregnant,’ my sister blurts out.

Cecilia puts her hand to her forehand. ‘I saw you holding hands with that flowery man in the restaurant,’ she says. ‘I trust you’ve nothing else you want to say to me?’

‘No,’ Edie says, looking shame-faced.

I glance at Edie, but she won’t meet my eyes. My mother is excluding me too.

My mother dabs at her mouth and then folds her napkin, placing it on the table with a practised move. ‘Then I’ll say nothing more about it either.’

Edie looks suitably relieved. Wait until I get hold of her.

‘Well,’ my mother says. ‘Seven grandchildren.’

‘Seven is a very lucky number in some cultures,’ I pipe up with false good cheer.

‘Not in ours,’ my mother says, as crisp as her linen.

Edie’s head sinks lower.

Our troublesome parent reels slightly as she gets up from the table. ‘Though I do think a little toast is in order. I’ll get some sherry.’ It’ll be the same bottle she’s had in the cupboard since last Christmas.

My sister goes to finish her Blue Nun, but my mother snatches it away from her. ‘That’s the last of your alcohol for a while,’ she says. ‘Elderflower cordial for you, young lady.’

Edie grimaces. Cecilia leaves the room.

‘Is that as close as I’m going to get to “congratulations”?’

‘Looks like it.’ I stare at my sister. ‘Flowery man?’

‘Pip,’ she says.

‘Holding hands?’

‘The holding hands bit was purely incidental.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’

My sibling meets my stare and ups it to a challenge. ‘I was actually asking him to have an affair with me.’

‘Right,’ I say, feeling my breath catch. I’ve known Edie for long enough to judge that she’s not joking. ‘And is he going to?’

‘No,’ my sister continues. ‘He said he wouldn’t touch me with a bargepole and that he was in love with you.’