The memory of Miles here with them last year – a point that had carefully not been mentioned – was an added strain. Her grandsons, she’d noted with a tug of the heart, were wearing their South African T-shirts, Tom’s sporting a rhino and Tim’s a cheetah. At least they both appeared to fit. ‘It went off very well, didn’t it?’ she said. Jonathan passed her the milk jug. ‘Yes; and that’s it, thank God, for another year.’ ‘Vicky was saying this might be the last ever,’ Sophie remarked, putting the remains of the birthday cake in a tin and pressing down the lid. ‘She thinks Tom will want a treat next year.’ ‘Then I’m even more grateful it was postponed till I was back,’ Anna commented. ‘These milestones are precious.’ ‘You did bring your camera, didn’t you?’ Angus asked, coming into the kitchen with a tray of debris. ‘We’re looking forward to a slide show later.’ ‘Yes, it’s in my bag. I’ve not had the chance to look at them myself yet.
