I know what you’re thinking. England versus Germany in Munich, September 2001. One of the greatest international victories of this – or indeed any – generation. That’s not what I’m thinking, though.
For me, five is the number of times (spread over the past 13 years) I have been to Australia with Heather and stayed with her father and stepmother. In that time, I have watched her stepbrother Trent grow from a little six-year old into a young man who within months will leave his teenage years behind him. (What is the correct term for my familial relationship to Trent? Stepbrother-in-law surely can’t be right …)
And one is now the number of times we have hosted them in return. It’s been a long time coming, but it’s lovely to have them over here at last, even if it did feel very out of place when they rolled up onto our driveway in their hire car yesterday afternoon. Having arrived in the UK on Saturday evening, they have already spent a couple of days whizzing round some of London’s tourist sights – it’s very much in Max’s nature to hit the ground running with a carefully thought-out plan – so it will be a spot of R&R and time with the grandsons (Zac was almost exactly the same age Toby is now when we last visited them) for the next couple of days. Splendid.