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This is what I discovered from my sister Deb

- JOY GOSNEY

You wouldn’t think from looking at her that my little sister Deb is a dab hand with a Sunday roast. Most people would think she was the sort of woman who slipped into full make-up and a ball gown to put out the recycling.

And yet not an hour ago, Mr Dear had a look of rapture in his eyes as he shoveled away two Yorkshire puddings, crispy roast potatoes, a couple of slices of tender beef with homemade horseradish sauce, and a selection of vegetables.

‘Mmm,’ he said as he tackled the beef. ‘Oooh,’ he said, speaking with his mouth full of Yorkshire. ‘Aaaah,’ he groaned as the horseradish sauce made its presence felt. Honestly, it sounded like Nigella Lawson Enjoys a Plate of Profiteroles, a late-night Channel 4 series if ever there was one.

Mr Dear is now in the garden, pruning the fig tree and speaking very firmly to the wisteria. Meanwhile, Deb and I have sunk ourselves into a sofa and a chair, and very sinkable they are too.