‘Are you sure?’ she asked, looking doubtful ‘The thing is, I haven’t been out for cocktails in a very long time and they’re like milkshakes, aren’t they? I had three and they hit me all at once. And then I had all that wine on top of them at June’s. Urgh.’ She shivered and placed a hand across her mouth at the thought. ‘I was good for nothing on Saturday, but at least I had a bit of a lie-in. Not much of one, though. Amelia did my make-up while I was asleep and then I had to get up because I couldn’t leave the mascara in my eyebrows. You know how it is.’

I nodded sympathetically, whilst thanking God for the small mercy of not actually being able to relate. ‘Well, don’t worry about Giles,’ I said, slowing as we reached his gate. ‘He isn’t the kind of guy to take offence. Besides, you said some very flattering stuff about him.’

She looked relieved. ‘Thanks for being so nice about it. But do say sorry to him anyway.’

I pushed open the gate. ‘I will.’

‘So how come you’re home so early?’ she asked, checking her watch. ‘Half-day?’

‘Bit under the weather.’ I continued through the gate.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she said, sounding guilty. ‘I’m keeping you talking when I expect all you want to do is get home.’

Yes, that is all I want to do, I thought. But aware of the effort that she was making to be both friendly and apologetic, and aware also that I was actually lying about feeling unwell, I turned and said, ‘It’s fine. Just a headache. I could have stayed at work but I’ll get more done away from the buzz of the office. Plus, poor Giles is properly unwell,’ I looked upwards to his bedroom window, ‘so I thought I could check on him at the same time and then take Anthony for a walk. Giles usually takes him to work with him on a Wednesday, so no dog walker.’

‘Poor Giles,’ she said, following my gaze to the first-floor bay.

I nodded and, by way of making at least some reciprocal effort to be neighbourly, asked, ‘Where are you off to? Have you got a child-free afternoon?’

‘I wish. My mum’s got Arthur, but I’m going into school to help with Amelia’s class for an hour. Kerry and I go every Wednesday. Harry and Amelia are in the same class.’

At the mention of Kerry’s name, I felt my few remaining dregs of positivity drain away like bathwater down a plughole. ‘That’s lovely,’ I said. ‘Have fun.’

‘Unlikely. You never know what they’re going to throw at you – literally,’ she laughed.

‘I bet. I know I wouldn’t cope. Anyway, I’d better not make you late.’