‘Any time,’ said Will, following them to the front door. He looked uncharacteristically vulnerable as Amelia heaved her bag up on her shoulder. Uncertain even. ‘So . . .’ he began awkwardly. ‘So, it’s been a pleasure getting to know you.’

‘You too,’ Amelia said. Oh gosh, now everyone was becoming formal and mannered. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be as straightforward as Maggie had anticipated.

‘Er . . . So where do we go from here?’ Will asked.

And that was him all over, Maggie thought, trying to mask her exasperation. Still a man-child at the end of the day, still unable to be the adult in a situation. Really, Will? It’s up to Amelia to broker another meeting? It’s your move now, pal. You are the grown-up here, remember.

‘Well,’ she put in, so that Amelia didn’t feel she had to reply, ‘where would you like things to go from here, Will?’ Come on, mate, she urged him in her head. Take the lead for once. Make your firstborn feel wanted. Wasn’t that what this was all about?

He scratched his chin. Perhaps he was so used to other people throwing themselves at him that he found it difficult to be the one having to ask the big, scary Do you like me? question. ‘I would love to do this again,’ he said eventually. ‘I know I haven’t been a great dad to you before now – or any kind of dad to you – but I’d like to make up for that. For us to get to know each other. If you want that too?’

There. Congratulations, Will – you did it. One heart on a plate, handed out hopefully. And Amelia was nodding. ‘Sure,’ she said, hiding her pleasure with a casually offhand shrug. ‘Cool.’

Maggie felt a tiny bit sorry for Will, having finally made his grand gesture only for it to be greeted by this typically underwhelming response. ‘That’s teenagers for you,’ she said, winking at him. Then she slung an arm around Amelia. ‘Come on, you,’ she said. ‘Let’s hit the road.’

‘Can I just have a quick word?’ Will asked her abruptly. ‘In private?’

‘Sure,’ said Maggie, handing Amelia the car keys. They both watched her slope away. ‘What is it?’

He leaned against the doorway, his gaze sliding down to his tatty Converse momentarily before back up at her. ‘Look, I . . .’ he began. ‘She’s amazing,’ he said quietly. ‘And I regret being such a self-absorbed idiot that I thought I didn’t care. That I cut myself off. It’s not an excuse, but I think I had a sort of . . . breakdown. Like, an empathy breakdown. I was so caught up in my career taking off that I . . . God, I got it all wrong. I’m sorry, Mag.’