I didn’t feel the need to hide the teabags from her this time. She would already be well aware of how budgeted they were. I dumped in an unhealthy amount of sugar and a splash of milk and handed her cup over.

“You are being spoiled this morning, Rosie.”

“Joke all you want,” she said as I buttered a fresh slice of toast. “But this is being spoiled for me. I could count the times I’ve had breakfast made for me on one hand.”

“Even when you were a child? Surely you were graced with morning toast back then?”

She dropped her eyes. “Mum worked late shifts. She was usually...