Although dead for over a year, my zombie father was still very much in our lives. One day, when in bed browsing old footage of family dining on an iPad, he froze a frame of himself scowling. Then he summoned two of his daughters – myself and the youngest one – to explain the scene.

We both knew that my father had been cross with me because I was complaining about the delay to dinner, and that the delay was caused by my sister who was so late getting out of bed.

However, in order not to cause any further stress, the pair of us wrapped our arms around each other to present a united front to our father, then persuaded him that the row was nothing more than a wee spot of sibling teasing.