‘Nanny?’ Mum’s voice is instantly sharp. ‘What nanny? What are you talking about?’

She manages to make ‘nanny’ sound like ‘serial killer’.

I hardly dare look at her.

‘We just thought … it might be a good idea, to try and get some expert help …’ I cough. ‘I mean …’

‘Minnie’s spoiled,’ puts in Luke flatly. ‘She needs some structure and regulations.’

Mum looks mortally offended.

‘She’s not spoiled by you, Mum, obviously,’ I add hurriedly. ‘It’s just … they have these amazing people called Ultimate Nannies who help to raise a well-balanced, accomplished child. They’re qualified in martial arts and everything.’

‘Martial arts?’ echoes Mum incredulously. ‘What does she need martial arts for, poor little love?’

‘And they’re trained in routines and child development …’ I glance desperately at Luke for support.

‘We think it’s what Minnie needs,’ says Luke firmly. ‘We’re going to interview some candidates next week and I’m sure we’ll all get along marvellously.’

‘Well.’ Mum seems lost for words. ‘Well.’ She takes a swig of wine. ‘I see. Everything’s changing.’

‘Well, of course, arrangements would have had to change substantially anyway,’ begins Luke, ‘bearing in mind that we’ll be— Oof!’ He breaks off as I kick him hard on the ankle and glare at him.

Does he have no tact? Is he just going to blurt out everything, right here, right now?

We can’t tell Mum we’re moving out. Not on top of everything else. It’ll be the final straw. It’ll destroy her. She’ll sink into depression and probably spiral into some kind of breakdown.

‘What?’ Mum looks beadily from face to face. ‘Bearing in mind you’ll be what?’

‘Nothing!’ I say quickly. ‘Um, shall we go and watch telly?’

‘Becky?’ I can see Mum’s face working with alarm. ‘What is it? What aren’t you telling me?’

Oh God, now I’m torn. If we don’t tell her the truth she’ll think something really awful’s happened. And after all, it is a family conference. Maybe this is the right time to break the news.

‘OK.’ I take a deep slurp of wine for courage. ‘Here’s the thing, Mum. Luke and I have found a lovely family house in Maida Vale. And we’ve had an offer accepted. And this one looks like it’s really going ahead. Which means we’ll be …’ I take a deep breath, hardly able to say it. ‘Mum, we’re moving out.’

There’s a stunned, disbelieving silence in the room. No one seems able to speak.

I shoot an agonized look at Luke. This is awful. I knew it would be bad, but I never thought it would be this bad.

‘You’re … going?’ Mum says at last, her voice cracking slightly. ‘You’re actually leaving us?’

She’s devastated. It’s obvious. I can already feel the tears rising inside.

‘Yes, we’re going. In about four weeks’ time, probably.’ I swallow, my throat tight. ‘We have to have our own space. You must understand that, Mum. But we’ll come and visit loads, and you’ll still see Minnie, I promise, and—’

Mum doesn’t seem to be listening.

‘They’re going! They’re going!’ She grabs Dad’s arm. ‘Did you hear that, Graham?’

Hang on. She doesn’t sound that devastated. In fact, she sounds … delighted.

‘Is this true?’ Dad narrows his eyes.

‘Looks like it.’ Luke nods.

‘We can start having dinner parties again,’ says Mum breathlessly. ‘We can use the table! We can have guests to stay!’

‘I can use my workshop,’ Dad chimes in faintly. ‘At last.’

‘I’ll get my wardrobe back! And the utility room!’ Mum seems almost giddy with excitement. ‘Oh, Graham!’ To my astonishment she plants a kiss on Dad’s cheek. ‘I have to call Janice and tell her the good news!’

Good news? What about the empty-nest syndrome? What about spiralling into depression?

‘But you said you didn’t want us to go!’ I say indignantly. ‘You said you were relieved those other houses fell through because you would have missed us so much!’

‘We were lying, love!’ says Mum merrily. ‘We didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Hello, it’s me, Janice!’ She turns to her mobile. ‘They’re going! Yes! Four weeks! Tell the others!’