I picked up the phone.

‘Where are your nephew and niece?’ shouted the person at the other end. ‘They are in mortal danger!’

‘P’s here, and A is in London (I think)’, I replied.

‘Well their father is on the loose and they need to get to safety’. From the office buzz that I could hear in the background, I guessed that the caller was a journalist or police officer.

This was yet another episode in the drama that all started when, aged 18, my middle sister secretly married a criminal from her hall of residence in London.