"Excellent," Gladys said. "You and Pippa can have all the cake. Or you can share it with other friends, I suppose." Gladys was certain that Higgs had other friends who didn't play quidditch, even if she couldn't call their names to mind now. Already she was planning a cake to make. Chocolate, probably, but not with brown icing. Perhaps red. Something autumnal would be nice. Really, it was just an excuse to try out new styles of decorating, but since Higgs was getting cake out of it she very much doubted he'd complain at her motives.
She sighed when Higgs said he couldn't see it. "No, dear," she said, "I don't suppose you can right now." It was to be expected. Terence was too close to his marriage still, too close to when it had been working. "That's why you have old nans like me in your life to tell you that it's there." Gladys had been married twice, had lived with another man between those, and had loved all three of them. She didn't believe in 'the one' - not now. Immediately after her first husband died had been a different matter entirely. "You're so young," she said again. "You're going to live for seventy more years." Or so Gladys certainly hoped. "That's a very long time, Terence."