I’d planned to go out to the shops later but when I walked out I was feeling so bad all I could do was mutter something to Martin, accept his offer for lunch and sat talking with him Mum.

I never know how to address her, lost as I am in the wealth of people she has around her who call her formally by her married name, by her Christian name or simply as Nanny. This confusion is a small price to pay for some of her time spent either talking about her life in Ireland and her days courting her future husband (who she described today as The Fella from Mella); how they moved here or people we both knew from our pasts.

To be honest I was glad of the time sitting in the cool of Martin’s house while he cooked with Richard and Joanne helping out here and there.

I was even more grateful when Martin suggested we both go out to look for cars as, left to my own devices, I’d have given up and slept.

The trip was more a fact finding tour than a shopping spree as the first place we went to was closed and the second had an owner who refused me a test drive as it was hot and he didn’t want to do any more work. Clearly a man anxious to make a sale.

So, we left empty handed but with the promise that, mid week, he will have more stock in and be in a better mood to allow one of them out on the road…