For all the pitfalls in conversations with his father, they tended to force Gordon to blurt out a truth he didn’t recognise until he said it. Kelly wondered if that was Gordon’s bail-out plan—an onsite van, eating his heart out over his beloved Bluebird. She couldn’t see it. Whether he knew it or not, he had to go where the love was, and what love did he have in his life? Ben and Lou, who would leave him. His parents, sort of. Herself he did love, she guessed, out of habit. He wasn’t in love with her anymore. Unrequited passion for your own spouse carried too heavy a discount. He loved his friends, but only in that they were woven into that texture of beach and village which was the stuff of his life. And this was it: if he did have one love it was Bluebird. He couldn’t leave. He was stuck with it.

‘You going to throw me out like a bag of garbage, or just sit there half drunk?’ Ron was saying. They were in the forecourt of the nursing home. The reception area was lit up behind the glass front doors, which were activated by the four-digit da Vinci code. ‘Oh no, you’re too good, aren’t you? You wouldn’t hurt an old man, no matter how much he provoked you. What a pair of heroes.’

‘Ron …’ Kelly wanted to tell her father-in-law the truth. We won’t hurt you because we can’t trust ourselves not to kill you.

Ron was nodding as if agreeing with Kelly’s thoughts. ‘I’d have more respect for you both if you came and smothered me in the night. It must be tempting. With these retirement home fees and God strike me pink, the taxes on getting old! We’re spending your inheritance as fast as we can. We’re worth a lot more to you dead than alive. Come to think of it, if we really wanted to help you out, your mother and I would take the injection right now. You thought of that?’ Ron stroked his chin, speculating for the first time on fatherhood as an act of self-sacrifice.

‘Constantly,’ Kelly said.

‘Good girl!’ Ron smacked her thigh. ‘Because if you’re waiting for us to die so that you can inherit something, think again. Once I’m gone, Norma will live another fifteen years. Take my advice. Don’t do anything for us in the expectation of a pay-off.’

‘Thanks, Ron, we can reassure ourselves about the purity of our motives.’

‘Too much purity if you ask me,’ Ron said.

‘What does that mean?’ Gordon asked, and looked immediately like he wished he hadn’t.