Mothering Sunday.

There are your favourite huge lilies in a vase, filling the air with the perfume of heaven. White and pale lilac blooms wait with the chocolates, destined to fill another vase. Your granddaughters have made beautiful cards for you… and invited you to Sunday lunch.

And, much as you would have loved a proper roast dinner, with proper, homemade Yorkshire puddings, you have turned that invitation down in favour of sandwiches, knowing that you will struggle to eat even those. It takes a while, but you manage…taking it slowly, a nibble at a time, with a mouthful of water after every bite.

And the girls have baked a special treat… scones, with lots of jam and fresh cream. They are as light as a feather, melt in the mouth and just perfect… those girls are going to be wonderful bakers when they grow up.

You eat the…