[Daniel, Grandson, it was immensely satisfying to write down the story of Chappy on the run. But now I’ve read it through I have doubts. I’m wondering if I got carried away. Let me try to explain. If I had married someone I’d known all my life (like Aki), I’d have understood almost everything about him. But the man I married was exotic. The unfathomable core, the unknown of him, was what made my heart beat. What I did know was that he loved and adored his daughters and me, that he knew how to work hard and that he had a clever mind and clever hands. That was enough. He never spoke of his childhood or his former life except for what he told to Aki at the time we became engaged to be married. I didn’t mind. I wasn’t in the least concerned that I didn’t know the name he was given when he was born. He was so delighted to be Chappy Star. If there was anything else I discovered about him, it was not because he told me. I knew that he moaned in the night, sometimes yelled and struggled. Yes, I knew about dreams and screams. The bits I’ve added about the war in China I made up from Chappy’s night terrors, from little hints here and there, what I’ve seen in movies and read in books and papers. You should be allowed to do that when you’re the owner of the script. When he told me how he’d ridden off on his bike and knocked himself out on the road, all he said was that he had ‘bad visions’ which led him to decide that he must quickly get as far away from us as he could.