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looked understandably blank.
    ‘Me neither. And as for calling me a “swaggerdon”, I have no idea what she’s on about most of the time.’
    ‘Ah, that I do know,’ said Pippa. ‘It’s from
The Only Way is Essex
. I think it’s meant as a compliment.’
    Cat laughed, ‘Well, you could have fooled me.’ She sat back and had another sip of her chocolate. ‘I do love your kitchen, it’s just the way a farm kitchen should be.’
    ‘What – old and falling down?’ chuckled Pippa, taking in the ancient welsh dresser with the soup tureen inherited from her great grandmother, the kitchen range that looked like it came out of the ark, and the worn-out flagstones.
    ‘It has character,’ said Cat. ‘I like it. Anyway, back to Lucy. Have you had any thoughts about what you can do? I’ll help in any way I can.’
    ‘I’ve written to the local MP,’ said Pippa, ‘but funnily enough – him being part of the government making the cuts – have had no response, so far. And I’m in the process of sorting out a petition. But what we really need to do is figure a way that the centre Lucy goes to can be self-funded and run at a profit. The basic problem is lack of funds – it needs to be able to keep offering the same services, but Social Services are cutting their budgets, and I’m not sure there are any charities who’d be able to step in.’
    ‘Any of the private care companies shown an interest?’
    Pippa pulled a face.
    ‘I don’t know if that would help. I’m a bit cynical about these companies. You don’t read much good about them in the papers.’
    ‘The one that runs Mum’s nursing home seems okay,’ said Cat.
    ‘Still,’ said Pippa. ‘I was thinking of more of a kind of cooperative. If the people who actually benefit from the centre could also be involved, that would be brilliant. But money’s a problem …’
    ‘Isn’t it always,’ said Cat.
    ‘So the only thing I can think of for now, is to run a major PR campaign and raise the centre’s profile, and find out if there is a way to get it to self fund. But these services are expensive. Dan and I could pay some of the cost towards Lucy’s care, but lots of the families who use the centre can’t. They need help too.’
    Cat thought about it.
    ‘I’ve always been a bit reluctant to use my mum for the purposes of newspaper articles,’ she said carefully, ‘but I think everyone who cares for someone else is in the same boat. I’ll pitch an article about caring to a few of the mags I write for if you like, and see if I can somehow write a feature about the centre, if you think that would help?’
    ‘Anything would be fantastic,’ said Pippa. ‘Although I feel a bit shameless, picking my famous friend’s brains.’
    ‘I’m hardly that famous,’ laughed Cat, ‘and besides, we’re mates. You and Dan made Noel and I feel so welcome when we came here. I’m happy to help.’
    Cat slowly drove into the home where her mother lived on the other side of Hope Sadler. It was a bright modern building, on the edge of an old estate, so every room had a view of the impressive gardens that had one day belonged to a long-forgotten local gentleman. It was a lovely location, and Cat was really grateful for the care her mum had received. The home she’d been in briefly in London hadn’t been up to much, and getting Mum up here had assuaged a lot of Cat’s guilt about being unable to look after Louise. She knew it wasn’t practical, but still, she wished she’d been able to.
    Ruby had come with her today. Cat never forced the kids to see Louise but she was grateful that even though they referred to her as ‘Mad Gran’, they all still loved and accepted Louise the way she was, and came to see her when they could. Even Mel took herself over here on the bus from time to time. As it happened, Ruby was quite happy to prattle on about what she’d been up to, regardless of the fact that Granny didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, or could