After a time this became close to normal, but now and again Vera would ask, ‘When is Daddy really coming back?’

Her mother looked at her stony-faced. ‘What do you mean, really coming back? You know perfectly well that your father is a very busy man, back and forth on business. He’s with us as often as he can be. Now don’t be demanding, Vera. We just have to accept that this is the way it is.’

‘I don’t believe you’ve got a dad,’ one of her friends at school started on her once.

‘What d’you mean – course I have!’ she retorted.

‘Where is he then? Is he a ghost or something?’

‘He’s just busy: he’s away on business,’ she said defiantly, making herself believe it as she said it.

‘Huh – my mom says he’s run off with a bit of stuff!’

Vera got caned that day, six raps on each hand, for slapping the other girl soundly round the face.

Just before her tenth birthday he did come back. She saw him first, one afternoon when she came home from school. Even though it was threatening rain, she had stopped two doors up to play with Spots, the Jack Russell, leaning over the neighbour’s fence, stroking him, and he kept jumping up to meet her hand and yapping with enthusiasm. Then she caught sight of someone just inside her own garden. There was a rose bush by the gate with pink blooms, straggly now and needing deadheading at the end of summer, and he was standing there next to it, just standing, as if in a dream.

Her heart gave an enormous leap. It was him. It really was him!

‘Daddy!’ She started to run, as fast as she could. ‘Daddy, Daddy!’

He turned to look at her, bewildered, as if he couldn’t remember who she was. They stood each side of the gate for a moment. There was a strong breeze and it was just beginning to drizzle.

‘Vera,’ he said, gently, ‘little Vera. You’ve got so big.’

He came and opened the gate to let her in. He didn’t lift her up into his arms, but took her hand and led her to the front door. She wanted to cry, but didn’t let herself. She didn’t know whether to trust that he was here.

‘Are you coming home really?’ she asked.

He looked down at her, his eyes affectionate but sad. ‘Yes. I think so,’ he said.

Vera had cried, ‘Daddy, Daddy!’ out loud in anguish as Katie sat on the bed beside her.

‘Mom – Mother?’ Katie said, taking her hand. ‘What’s the matter? Are you all right?’

Her mother’s hand felt hot and dry. She gave a small moan and opened her eyes, and for a few moments it seemed as if she was looking at a complete stranger. In a cracked voice she said, ‘Is he still here?’

‘Who?’ Katie asked gently.

‘Daddy – I mean . . .’ She looked confused. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said, seeming to come back to herself. She gave a little sobbing sigh. ‘They all go, all of them. They’re always taken from you.’ Her voice was desperately sad.