On the sagging brown corduroy couch, Rodrick Heffley slouches, one arm draped loosely around the shoulders of Arabella Stone. He’s in his customary white shirt and black jeans, a worn Löded Diper tour shirt layered underneath. Arabella is tucked against his side, her long brown hair spilling over his arm. She’s in a tight-fitting pink top and a denim miniskirt, her legs curled beneath her.

Perched on Arabella’s lap, utterly still for once, is five-year-old Manny, his wide eyes fixed on the screen. On the floor in front of the couch, Greg Heffley and his best friend Rowley Jefferson are sprawled on their stomachs, a bowl of half-eaten popcorn between them.

From the kitchen comes the clatter of pans and the murmur of adult voices. Susan Heffley’s cheerful humming, Frank Heffley’s low, occasional grunt of agreement.