Amber Green Takes Manhattan. Rosie Nixon

And Dad was a stay-at-home dad, he did all the school runs while Mum was working and did some work as a handy man. There’s nothing dad can’t fix.’

      She gave me a stare that felt like she was trying to read my soul.

      ‘Keep the hubby at home, clever woman,’ she remarked finally, a wry smile across her face. ‘How delightful.’

      When my five minutes of grilling from Marian was finally over, she proceeded to spend ten minutes telling us about Florence’s latest work projects – including a campaign for a new London art gallery filled with paintings created by children with behavioural problems, and a charity project sending make-up products to women in remote African villages.

      ‘All fantastically worthy,’ Marian gushed. She had a wicked glint in her eye.

      Noticing my puffed-out chest and reddening cheeks, Rob placed a firm hand on my knee.

      ‘Let’s take out the plates.’ he said. Dan looked as though he wanted to slide under the table. Marian looked at her watch. I was clearly dull as ditch water compared to Florence.

      ‘Mum adores you, it’s obvious,’ Rob said in the kitchen as I placed two empty plates on the side. He had wound his arms around my waist and was peppering my neck with little kisses.

      ‘Have we just been in the same room?’ I asked. ‘I feel like I’ve been in front of a firing squad. She’s infinitely more excited about how Florence is saving the world than anything I have to say.’ I rolled my eyes.

      ‘Please, Amber, don’t take it personally. Mum’s just testing you, she likes a woman who can stick up for herself, it was the same when Florence first came round. I know when Mum likes someone and she likes you. You passed.’

      ‘I passed?’ It’s a weird kind of test. ‘Anyway, when are we going to—’ I stopped abruptly as Marian joined us and leaned against the work top.

      ‘To what?’ she asked, and we both averted her eyes. ‘I’m worried about Dan,’ she continued, looking earnest. ‘He’s not himself at all this evening and he’s stepped out to make yet another call – to Florence, I’m sure – but he won’t let on if anything’s wrong. He barely said a thing over dinner, and he didn’t even finish his lamb. That’s a first. Has he said anything to you, Robert darling? I just want to be sure he’s all right.’

      Sensing a mother-and-son private moment, I excused myself for the loo.

      I locked myself in the downstairs toilet and sat down, breathing a huge sigh. My eyes wandered around the tiny room; there was a super-cute photo of Rob and Dan in a paddling pool on the wall – I imagined it was taken in the garden of this very house. I guessed they were aged about four and six, with grubby hands, freckled faces and huge smiles. Rob looked a cheeky blond scallywag and Dan more serious and dark haired. It must have been captured not long before their father left. Rob had told me a little about what happened, but not much detail.

      ‘It was the biggest cliché in the book,’ he had said. ‘Dad went off with his young PA and broke Mum’s heart. I don’t think she’s ever got over it. After going to some counselling sessions she decided to train as a relationship therapist herself. What is it they say about therapists? They’re the most messed-up people out there.’ I knew that Rob now had a fractured relationship with his father, who went on to have three more children with the PA. They saw each other maybe once a year. It was sad, really. Knowing this made me feel a little more sympathetic about the dig Marian had made about my dad’s job over dinner and perhaps helped explained why she hadn’t exactly been warm to me so far. She clearly had a deep mistrust of other women around her men. Unless they’re Florence.

      And then my gaze fixed on another photo; this one looked very recent. It showed Dan on a white sandy beach holding an attractive, bikini-clad blonde woman in his arms; she was flaunting what appeared to be a big diamond engagement ring. It had to be Florence; all big bouncy platinum curls and an innocent smile.

      ‘Quick loo break, that’s better.’ I smiled, joining them all in the kitchen.

      Rob smiled quizzically. ‘Thanks for the update, Amber.’

      ‘Dessert will be another five minutes, let’s go back through.’ Marian ushered us, rapidly putting an end to whatever they had been discussing. She placed a hand on my arm to guide me through first, an indication that I wasn’t completely repulsive to her.

      Rob poured us all another large glass of white wine and I gulped down half of mine immediately. Thank God for wine, I mean, seriously, what would I do without wine? Judging by the speed with which Rob finished his glass and then refilled us both, I knew the moment had arrived.

      ‘So, Mum, Dan, there is something Amber and I wanted to talk to you about tonight.’

      Marian clutched Dan’s arm. ‘Jesus, don’t tell me you’re getting married,’ she squealed, horrified.

      I shuffled to the back of my chair. She really knows how to make me feel welcome.

      ‘No, Mum, it’s more of a short-term plan. We, er, Amber and I are going to be moving to New York for a few months. I’ve been offered a filming job out there and we thought it would be a great adventure if we both went together.’

      He paused to take in their expressions. Marian looked like she’d been turned to stone.

      ‘Mum? You’ve always said I should seize opportunities – isn’t it great?’

      ‘Sounds bloody exciting. Congrats, man,’ Dan piped up, filling the silence from Marian. He held his hand out across the table to Rob and then he shook my hand. ‘Got space in your suitcase for me?’

      ‘Always got a sofa for you, come and visit. You too, Mum, it’s only for an initial three months, so you’d better take advantage of the cheap accommodation.’

      Marian forced her mouth into a kind of tight smile. ‘Super, darling, I suppose it sounds great fun,’ she said, before looking me right between the eyes. ‘You must be pleased.’ I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d then hissed. You’d think I’d just told her I was taking him to Helmand Province.

      ‘Yes, I’m excited, too,’ I offered, ‘and it’s not for long, you know, we’ll be back.’

      ‘Lovely. When do you go?’ she asked, arms folded across her chest defensively.

      ‘In a few weeks. We’re just looking into our tickets and visa and we have to sort out living arrangements and then we’ll be off.’

      ‘A few weeks? Just like that,’ she said.

      ‘Just like that,’ Dan repeated, impersonating Tommy Cooper. Rob and I both sniggered.

      We were wrenched out of some awkward small talk about journey times to New York by a strange smell emanating from the kitchen. Rob noticed it first.

      ‘That’s smoke,’ he got to his feet. ‘Mum, I think something’s burning.’

      We all lifted our noses to the air.

      ‘God, yes, and your smoke alarm’s not working,’ said Dan, sounding animated for the first time all evening as he leapt up to join Rob on his way to the kitchen.

      Marian jumped to her feet, too, calling after them. ‘Oh Lord, it’s the sticky pudding, I forgot all about the bloody pudding. It’ll be ruined.’ She looked stricken.

      I pushed my chair away from the table and joined them.

      In the kitchen, the three of them were staring at a smoking layer of melted plastic mixed with a toasted toffee pudding. Marian’s eyes had gone glassy and I was afraid she might cry.

      ‘Left the damn plastic film on it, didn’t I.’ She swallowed, her voice trembling. ‘Some lids you pierce, others you don’t, it’s so bloody confusing.’

      ‘Bang goes pretending it was home-made,’ Rob remarked, trying to lighten the atmosphere. He put an arm around