Dread swept through her. What Toby said made perfect sense. Why hadn’t she asked more questions? Dad’s going to tell me he’s dying, she thought, and the idea of losing him just as he’d come back – no matter how bad things had been – punched her in the stomach.

She was standing – Tara didn’t remember getting up – and so was Toby. The raindrops were falling around them, heavier and heavier, turning the paving stones black outside the circle of the umbrella, but Tara barely noticed.

‘Kids, I’ve had some bad news,’ said Keith, as if his face wasn’t telegraphing that already. ‘Will you sit down?’

Trembling, Tara sank on to the seat. It could be something fixable, she told herself. Diabetes. High cholesterol. But everything about her dad’s weary body language told a different story. Whatever this news was, it was crippling him from the heart outwards.

‘What’s happened?’ Toby spoke for them both.

‘I haven’t been completely straight with you. I’m sorry.’

‘Dad, whatever it is …’ she began, then felt a sob close her throat.

Hold my hand, Toby, she thought, but he didn’t. He sat staring fixedly across the table, bracing himself.

The silence seemed to go on for ever, punctuated by the dot-dot-dot of the rain on the umbrella over their heads.

Keith pinched the bridge of his nose, then spoke. ‘Sarah – Molly’s mum – isn’t on a film shoot. She is in Ireland, but she’s in a clinic. She has some … some serious dependency issues, but she’s getting herself sorted out. Some friends and I staged an intervention a few weeks ago – it wasn’t planned. But it was necessary. That’s why Molly’s here.’

The night was still, but Tara felt the storm inside her building: it was relief but mixed with something angrier. She tried to ignore it, but it was roaring closer, like the thunder now rumbling only a few miles away.

She tried to push it away, knowing it wasn’t a good feeling.

‘I wasn’t in Turville Court yesterday,’ Keith went on. ‘I flew out to attend a session with Sarah, as part of her treatment. Sarah seemed stronger. Wanted to know about Molly’s party, what I’d planned. We discussed whether she might be able to speak to her on her birthday. They’ve got strict rules about outside contact.’ He swallowed. ‘Sarah’s counsellor – Niamh – found her in the grounds this afternoon. They don’t know where she got the stuff from, but she’s had a very bad relapse. Niamh’s been trying to call me all day.’

‘Oh.’ Tara’s heart plummeted. So that was Niamh. Not a girlfriend. Someone who really did need to speak to Keith.