‘Thank you for making a copy of that photo album, by the way,’ he said.

‘No problem.’ The album had been in the bottom of the last box, wrapped in Toby’s football top.

‘I’m glad it survived. Molly had a ball going through that. Laughing at my clothes. Laughing at my hair. My shoes. My leather jacket.’ He pretended to look crushed. ‘Who knew there was so much to laugh at?’

‘She hasn’t even seen the home videos yet.’ Tara rolled her eyes. ‘Save those for next time, eh?’

Keith smiled wryly. ‘I’m glad there’ll be a next time.’

‘Me too.’

He sat down on the wooden benches lining the corridor of the new hall and patted the space next to him. ‘Have you got a minute? There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a while.’

Tara sat down. She thought about making a joke, but didn’t. Keith seemed unusually serious.

He rubbed his beard. ‘When I was with Sarah in the clinic, it took me back to my own rock-bottom moment. Your mum – quite rightly – spotted my drinking problem years before I did. She tried to talk me into rehab when you were about six, but I wouldn’t go, because obviously I didn’t have a problem. She threw me out a few times, but I managed to talk her into letting me back. And then the whole thing with Diane happened, and that really hit me where it hurt …’

Keith stopped, abruptly. ‘But that’s not what this is about. The point is, after we split Ruth had strict rules about you two. I can’t blame her. There were a few near misses. She wouldn’t let me see you if she thought I’d been drinking, and I’ve got to be honest, sometimes it was easier not to see you.’

‘You missed weekends,’ Tara pointed out. ‘And birthdays.’

‘Some I missed, some she wouldn’t let me take you.’

‘And then we didn’t want to see you. Because you didn’t want to see us.’

Keith bowed his head, as if riding out a punch. ‘Anyway, this story has a happy ending, sort of. About eleven, twelve years ago I was in Cyprus with some friends, two of whom brought along their baby. The most adorable toddler, all smiles and tiny fingers. Reminded me of you at that age. We’d had a long lunch and I was feeling a bit sorry for myself, so I thought I’d phone you and tell you that I’d just seen a baby that looked like you.’ He half-laughed, self-consciously. ‘Rioja logic. But when I heard your voice, something in my heart just … dissolved. I missed you so much it burned inside. I was watching this tot stumbling about, and it seemed like only minutes since you’d been like that. And I’d thrown it away.’