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‘I am. More than all right,’ she replies. ‘I don’t think it could have gone any better, do you?’

‘It was beautiful,’ I assure her.

‘I’m very glad Elizabeth isn’t here to see the undoing of all her hard work,’ Hebe says with a smile as the twins race past again, evidently involved in some sugar-fuelled game of chase. Edward’s trousers appear to have picked up a tear from somewhere, and Frederick’s jacket lapel has a smear of something that could be chocolate mousse on it. ‘Note to self: next time I get married, don’t bother getting bespoke suits for six-year-olds.’

I laugh. ‘There isn’t going to be a next time, Hebe. I think you and Mark are set for life.’

Her eyes twinkle softly as she turns to me. ‘A note for your wedding, then?’

‘Ha. I think we’ll all be so decrepit by the time I finally stumble upon Mr Right that we’ll be more worried about Zimmer-frame accidents than whether bespoke suits are a good idea on young children.’

‘He’s out there, you know,’ she murmurs. ‘You just need to keep looking.’

‘Why would I do that?’ I counter. ‘I’m planning to turn into one of those mad old aunts you feel you have to visit but are secretly terrified of because you’re sure she’s slipping sherry to your children when you’re not looking. The hair is the first stage, didn’t I tell you?’

Hebe is undeterred. ‘Maybe you could go on one of those reality TV shows where you just get bundled up with someone and have to make the best of it,’ she suggests with a grin. ‘There was one recently where they were all stranded on desert islands. What do you think?’

‘I’d rather join a convent. And Mum would have an absolute fit.’

‘Almost worth it, just for that.’

‘To see me in a nun’s habit, or to wind Mum up?’

‘Both.’

‘You’re very bad.’

Thankfully, further analysis of my love life, or lack thereof, is interrupted by the arrival of our brother, Troy.

‘All right, ’zilla?’ he asks Hebe with a grin.

‘Zilla?’ Hebe looks at him in confusion.

‘As in Bridezilla, get it?’

‘I haven’t been a Bridezilla, have I?’ Hebe asks, looking horrified. ‘What has Henrietta said?’

‘Relax.’ He chucks her affectionately on the shoulder. ‘She said, and I quote, it was one of the loveliest weddings she’s had the honour to be involved in. I think she actually preferred it to ours, now I come to think of it. I might have to have a word with her about her loyalty. Anyway, the boys did well, didn’t they?’

‘They did,’ Hebe agrees. ‘Thank you so much for lending them to us.’

‘And I think we can all be grateful that Dad didn’t deliver his entire speech in Latin. He threatened that for us, did I tell you? Can you imagine? I mean, there’s eccentric and then there’s just plain unintelligible.’

‘I don’t think Mum would have let him.’

‘Mm. Maybe you’re right, although he is a bit of a loose cannon. I wouldn’t trust him not to whip out a bit of Memento, capram semper Saturni manducamus to go with the Salve in familiam, fili.’

‘At least he translated it so the guests knew he was welcoming Mark to the family,’ I observe. ‘What’s the other phrase?’

Troy smiles. ‘Remember, we always eat goat on Saturdays.’

‘What?’

‘I’ve been playing with ChatGPT, building up a store of random Latin phrases to use on Dad at inopportune moments. Keep him on his toes.’

‘Have you tried that one?’

‘I have, actually.’