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of a cold feeling in my groin, I glanced down to see that the wet patch spreading over the crotch of my jeans and the hem of my jumper was the remains of my whisky.
    Gina followed my eyes. ‘Oopsy!’ She shrugged and smacked her scarlet-painted lips together. ‘Plenty more where that came from.’ She patted my shoulder, then saluted me as if we were rebels sharing a secret solidarity before drifting over to the fridge where she helped herself to a G and T.
    Thanks, Gina.
    Dad smiled as I stood up and attempted to dust myself off with a tea towel. ‘Why don’t you get changed and I’ll help your mother finish dinner. I hope you’ve brought some of those fancy cakes of yours because I can’t stop thinking about the ones you made for Granny’s birthday.’ I watched as his face fell for a moment but he quickly concealed his grief.
    ‘They’re in there, Dad.’
Apart from the ones currently freezing out in the barn.
I pointed at the box on the counter and cringed as the image of Sam trying to prise it from my hands popped into my mind. ‘Of course I’d bring cakes with me. It would be criminal not to.’
    Dad smiled as he peered into the box, then nodded approvingly. ‘They look good.’
    I crossed the kitchen to the open doorway then realised I had no idea where I was going. As if reading my mind, Esther said, ‘Take a left at the top of the staircase then you’re the third door along. We selected a lovely room for you.’
    ‘Thanks, Mum.’ I turned away quickly, not wanting her to see the surprise on my face at how pleasant she was being. It made me want more, yet simultaneously made me a bit uneasy, as if someone was playing a trick on me.
    I left the kitchen and wandered into the hallway.
    And stared.
    I swear that my jaw actually fell so far open as I gazed around me, that it hit my chest.
    A huge staircase with a polished oak banister and ornate iron spindles ran from the middle of the hall and branched off in two directions as it ascended. There were several rooms off the ground floor hallway, one of which I assumed must be the dining room as I could hear the clink of china and the tinkling of cutlery as someone laid the table. Music came from the room adjacent to it, which was just off the grand double-front door. I realised that it must be the drawing room or lounge, depending on which century you were from. I scanned the hallway to see more rooms on the other side of the staircase too. Obviously the building was enormous from the outside but the inside reminded me of a cathedral. No, make that two cathedrals combined.
    This house would need some serious exploration. Once I’d got changed, of course. I dared not hold my family up any longer.
    ***
    I kicked the door to my room open as I was juggling my holdall, my handbag and trying not to let the whisky on my jeans seep through into my M&S knickers. I flicked through my memory to my shower at the flat then recalled popping a white pair on.
Great!
If whisky soaked into them it would be hard to get out, which meant that I’d never be able to dry the stained pair on the washing line. I blamed Esther for my obsession with whiter-than-white-whites. Socks, knickers, bras and aprons all had to be blindingly clean and white or…or what? I didn’t know the answer to that one but it was just a
fact
I’d grown up knowing.
What if you get knocked down by a bus today and you haven’t got your best knickers on? What if you want to try something on when you’re out shopping and there’s a communal changing room? What if the vicar comes for tea?
(Strange that one, how would he know what state my knickers were in?)
What if you meet the queen?
(Did Elizabeth II have x-ray vision then?) But Esther’s convictions were so strong that they could actually assume the appearance of facts. I guess that’s a mother thing.
    As the door to my room swung wide, my jaw went slack for the third time since I’d arrived.
    ‘WOW! WOW! WOW!’
    The bedroom was dimly lit by two