“David,” she said, her voice steady as a broadcast. “Did you really bribe a cameraman with gummy kangaroos?”

The regular programming clicked back on. A couple was looking at a cottage in the Cotswolds.

“Margaret,” Priya continued, “your son, David, couldn’t get the video call to work. So, he did something slightly mad. He called us.”

At exactly 2:00 PM, the announcer’s face didn’t appear. Instead, the screen flickered to a live shot of Broadcasting House in London. A young producer named Priya was speaking directly to the camera.

“Happy 80th, Mum!” David shouted, his voice a little crackly but perfect. “Sorry about the Wi-Fi. I bribed a BBC cameraman who was on holiday here with two bags of kangaroo-shaped gummies.”

And for the first time in a long time, 12 Primrose Lane was the warmest, happiest place on television.