A month ago, my frail in-laws moved into a ground floor flat two doors down from us. That weekend, the upstairs neighbours popped our two-year-old next to theirs in a bike trailer – their five-year-old pedalling alongside – and took them all to the park for a few hours so we could get on with unpacking boxes.
Some care is formal. My in-laws also have live-in carers, and my daughter goes to nursery. But much of it comes from these informal networks of neighbours, families and friends looking out for each other.
Or, at least, it should.
