His son – his son! – turned and gave a faint smile. ‘I didn’t expect that to happen. I’m not usually – so out of control.’

‘If we can’t be moved about meeting one another at last, I don’t know what we can weep about. I’m sorry I’ve not been there for you over the years, but your mother – well, she was sure it was the best thing to do.’

‘She didn’t even tell me who my real father was until I was fifteen and needed my birth certificate to get a passport for a school trip. When she wouldn’t give me it, said she’d changed her mind about the trip, I went hunting through the cupboards and discovered my birth certificate. And I only found out you’d wanted access two days ago. She destroyed all the letters you sent as I grew older, all of them. I never saw a single one.’

It was hard not to say what he thought of that gratuitous cruelty, but Jez managed to keep his comment mild. ‘That was … unfair.’

‘Yes.’ Tom frowned at his father. ‘You look pale, but the scars aren’t as bad as I expected. Shouldn’t you sit down now? I don’t want you fainting on me.’

Jez nodded. ‘I’d better. I still tire easily.’ He touched his face. ‘This won’t show much at all when the scars fade, they tell me.’

‘How about your hand? It said in one article that it was damaged. Can you still play all right?’

‘You’ve been following what happened to me?’

‘For years.’

‘Then why the hell didn’t you contact me sooner?’

‘Mum. And then I got married. Setting up a home and having kids can be pretty time-consuming.’

‘I’ve seen photos of Ryan and Hayley. I’d love to meet them.’

‘You know their names?’

Jez fumbled for his wallet and pulled out the photos.

Tom’s eyes filled with tears again and he touched the photos with one fingertip, very gently, his love for his children showing clearly. ‘It’s because of them I’ve come to you. My wife – she’s turned into an alcoholic. I want to leave her, take the kids away from her, keep them safe. She doesn’t even feed them properly, and she pawns our stuff. Only I’ve just lost my job. I feel so helpless.’

‘We could get her into rehab. They can work wonders.’

Tom fiddled with a thread hanging from his sweater. ‘That’d be good. For her, I mean. If we can persuade her.’

‘She has to want it or it won’t work.’

‘Even if she does, I still don’t want to stay with her. It was a big mistake, marrying her – lust, not love. She’s pretty, but stupid. And sneaky. Like with the second baby. I thought she was on the pill. I was thinking of leaving her. She guessed and got pregnant on purpose to keep me with her. She doesn’t really like looking after kids but for some reason she won’t let go of me.’