Not as an uncle, not as a family friend from the old days, not as anything with a story attached, because I am not going to build a lie that I then have to unpick in front of him.

My friend Ivan, who I knew before, who is around now.

Four.

Daytime, in public, with me there, for the first six months at least.

Not because I think you’re a danger.

Because he is seven and he does not need a stranger in his house.

Five.

Nothing extravagant.