It was barely a sound.

“Are we in trouble?” Liam whispered to me.

“No, sweetheart.

You haven’t done anything wrong.”

I had rehearsed every possible response on the drive to the airfield that morning.

I had not rehearsed the sight of my boys becoming anxious because five adults had forgotten their manners.

“Tristan,” I said, “they came because they wanted to meet their family.

If this isn’t a good time, we’ll leave.”