He shakes his head. “God, no. He idolised him at first, by all accounts. By the time my mother and I came along, that idolisation had faded and there was something almost weary about his love for his dad. He’ll never speak badly about him, but Eddie’s the reason he is the way he is.”

“Organised and serious,” I say with realisation.

He nods. “He had to be. By the time he was nine, he was organising Eddie’s chequebook and squirrelling away any spare cash he could find in the house so they’d have something for what Eddie called rainy days.” He shrugs. “It was England. Of course there were a lot of those. He went to ten different boarding schools. He’d last a couple of months there and then he’d be leaving because Eddie couldn’t pay the school fees. I don’t think he had friends because they never stayed anywhere long enough for him to make them. But he loved Eddie, and Eddie loved him.”

I sneak a peek at Zeb, and it’s as if I’m looking at him with new eyes. He’s always been far too organised and wears responsibility like it’s his underwear. Unseen and unnoticed. But to know what’s made him like that makes my stomach hurt. To think of a young and probably stoical Zeb packing up from another school and moving on with only Eddie for company makes my eyes burn.

Max smiles fondly as he looks at Zeb. “He still looks after all his stepmothers, you know?”

“I got that impression from the way he spoke.”

“He talked about them?” He sounds startled, but when I nod, he smiles. “He’s the best man I’ve ever known,” he says quietly. “He was immensely kind to me when his dad married my mother. I was young and probably really annoying.” I grin, and he winks. “I know it’s hard to believe.” His grin fades to a soft smile of remembrance. “He looked after me and made sure I was okay, and even after his dad died and his responsibility could have ended, he kept it going. He’d come to my sports days and wrote me letters every week when I was at boarding school and sent me treat boxes. Then when I was old enough, I decided he was my best friend, and I made him agree.” He chuckles. “It’s the best thing I ever did. He’s kind and fiercely loyal. When you’re in with Zeb, you never really leave.”

I look at Patrick who is staring at Zeb and oblivious to his fiancée’s glares. “Does that apply to Patrick?”

He shrugs. “We’re here, aren’t we?”