‘Wouldn’t miss it, even if it means I don’t get this thing working.’ Kelly went inside and made coffee for herself and Ben. Like all her efforts in the kitchen, the result was less than the intention behind it.

She carried the two mugs to the Boardroom where she found him in a Z-shape on his mattress on the floor, his face to the wall.

‘Cappuccinos, I’m branching out,’ she said, but he wouldn’t roll over. ‘I thought you’d be up practising your shots?’

Fuck, she thought, I am sick of myself. Lou’s right: we all have to get out of here. But she’s also sort of wrong. Bluebirders aren’t creatures of the depths. We are in the shallows, brackish little seawater puddles left in the rocks by a receding tide.

‘Sweetheart,’ she said, her hand on Ben’s shoulder. ‘I get it.’

She felt a sickness rising in her stomach. She sipped her coffee, knowing it would make her nerves better and worse.

The muscles of Ben’s back were rigid beneath her hand.

‘He can’t help it, darling. He meant well.’

Damn him. Gordon had had years to grasp this nettle. He’d been content to fuck his life up rather than let his own wife and son in, and now he had let them in, it was too late. Anger surged in her, displacing pity. Gordon had had his chances. He’d sent them all spinning off in their separate directions. That was what his silence had come to. Kelly had always believed in speaking, in letting it all out. Not so much anymore.

‘Darling. Please don’t tell your grandparents about this. You know how they’re always saying don’t live in the past, that’s how you grow old? Well, it might not be because they won’t; it might be because they literally can’t. The past is too painful.’ She stroked his back. From his tension, she knew he was listening. ‘You know, I always wanted to be an only child. I grew up thinking Carl was the worst thing that ever happened to me. I wanted to give you the gift I never had: no competition.’

‘Dad says being an only child is the best.’

‘You’re lucky, that’s what we both believe.’