We finished our pud and were clearing the dirty crocks to the kitchen when the ’phone rang. ‘I’ll get it, Auntie,’ I said, putting the pudding bowls on the counter above the dishwasher. I hurried to the ’phone and lifted the handset.

‘Gaby? This is B-Bryony. I’ve t-told Mummy and we’re g-going to see D-Dr MacNeish after tea.’