‘And what is that exactly? Rock up at George’s door with one boob, no hair, and say I’m sorry with a bunch of flowers? His wife was … is … desperate for a baby. They found it difficult, impossible. I think, in the end, that future non-existent baby she couldn’t get out of her head meant more to her than he did, and she’s probably already found herself a conveniently fertile bloke to give her what my George couldn’t. And then she’ll dump him, when she’s got what she wanted, just like she’s dumped George. The power of the maternal urge, eh? Another thing I’m not qualified to understand.’

‘You’re very hard on yourself, Madi. And on her. Do you know that?’

‘I’m a cynic, Tom. People do what they have to do, to get what they need. Look after number one. It’s what I did for all those years, palming my only child off on my parents. I always thought it would be just for a while, that I’d come back and be a real mum, that we’d fall into each other’s arms and live happily ever after, but then I’d get offered another show, a leading role in a play … Like you said earlier, you never know when it’s going to be too late, do you? When the chance to put things right has gone by? Maybe she’ll go back to him. George’s wife, Jessica. Maybe she’ll get pregnant by someone else and he’ll take her back, take the baby on, because he loves her and it’s what she wants more than anything, and because it’s the only way he can ever be a dad …’

‘Madi, you don’t know if any of this is true. What about IVF? Adoption? There are any number of solutions that don’t involve her sleeping with some random stranger. Their marriage was under strain obviously, but you don’t even know if it’s definitely over. Or why. Anything could have happened in the months since you last spoke to your son. A reconciliation. Counselling. Medical intervention. A miracle conception, even. And you’ll never know unless you make that first move and break the ice.’

‘I did try. Just the other night. I tried to call but it went to answerphone.’

‘And? What message did you leave?’

‘I didn’t. I chickened out.’

Tom sighed. ‘Oh, Madi, what am I going to do with you? You know, if he was here, your George, I’d bash your stubborn heads together. Still, there’s only so much nagging I can do. The rest is up to you, so I’ll back off now and we’ll change the subject. Have another Jaffa Cake before I eat the lot, and let’s check on Flo, shall we? It is what I’m supposed to have come round for. Feeling poorly or not, I bet if we open this tuna, the smell will have her down those stairs like a shot!’

Flo appeared, right on cue, as soon as the tin was opened.