Keith didn’t reply immediately. He massaged his temples, as if trying to order his thoughts. He glanced down the garden towards the studio, and dropped his voice. ‘Tara, I’ve tried to explain several times, and I understand why you’ve resisted, but there are things about Sarah you need to know. Things that would throw a different light on to this whole situation …’

‘… but which are entirely from your perspective.’ Tara held up her hands. She didn’t want to hear that Sarah was hysterical, unreliable, over-emotional – accusations she knew he’d levelled at her mother. Unfair accusations. Her mother was none of those things. ‘I do not need to know. And she isn’t here to defend herself.’

‘I get that, but for Molly’s sake? Sarah’s—’

‘No, you listen.’ Tara’s throat felt raw. ‘I thought this was our chance to get to know each other. I thought you wanted to spend some time with me, so we could maybe start again and build an honest relationship. I was actually happy about that. But now you’ve sprung this on me and it changes everything. I don’t know Sarah. I don’t know this little girl …’

‘But that’s it. Molly’s just a little girl.’ Keith gazed at her, and Tara could feel herself being reeled in by the intensity of his dark eyes. ‘I understand why you’re furious. You have every right to be. But please, do one thing for me – believe me when I say I had no idea Molly was going to be here. I’m just doing anything I can to make a bad situation better.’ He raised his hands, defending himself from her furious glare. ‘Do it for Molly, if nothing else.’

Tara opened her mouth to argue further but was stopped by the sound of happy barking.

Molly was walking down the garden with a huge chocolate caterpillar cake on a tray, Lloyd bouncing and leaping around her. It wasn’t – Tara glanced at her dad, concerned – it wasn’t Molly’s birthday, was it?

‘Ah, pudding!’ he declared, as if they’d just been chatting about the weather. ‘Marvellous!’

Molly put the cake in front of Tara. Either she was allowed birthday cake whenever she liked, or Keith had no idea. ‘You can have the first slice with Colin’s face, Tara,’ she said generously.

Tara had sent the first message before she’d even grabbed the bottle of wine out of the fridge.

Hey Toby. I need to talk – can you ring me, please?

There was no immediate response, so she texted again, typing awkwardly with her left thumb while pouring the wine with her right. This time she didn’t bother with her usual pretend casualness.

I need to talk to you right now. This is urgent.

He must have detected the anxious emotions coming across the Atlantic because three dots appeared almost immediately.

2 mins. On a call.