‘The child support would be sent on to you,’ Vivvi added hopefully. ‘Red and I might be able to weigh in with some money too, if that makes a difference.’ He could almost hear the rustle of straws as she clutched at them.

Loren’s family being prepared to help with expenses emphasised how much they wanted him to agree. How cornered he was. ‘It’s not the money,’ he croaked, his throat feeling lined with sand. ‘I can’t—’ he muttered. Then he cleared his throat. ‘I can’t commit myself tonight.’

‘OK,’ whispered Vivvi.

Too wired to sleep after the call ended, Nico lay on the sofa and, on his phone, pulled up a list of typical symptoms of substance abuse. His heart had been doing a lot of sinking but this weighed it down further. Withdrawal from responsibility was high on the list.

Yep. He was becoming excruciatingly aware.

Chapter Ten

On Sunday, Nico had a lot to think about. On automatic, he began the day with the porridge he’d neglected to make the day before while chatty Josie entertained her sister. Nico watched them play with pastel-coloured magnetic building blocks Josie had found in the back of a cupboard.

What the hell was he going to do? His mum was right: Maria wasn’t his responsibility – but he didn’t have the stomach for handing his daughter’s sister over to the state.

Josie kept asking about Loren like a police officer trying to catch him out in an inconsistency. ‘Where’s Mum gone?’

‘She’s staying with Grandma and Grandpa till she’s feeling better. Grandpa’s recovering after his operation so we’re helping out with Maria.’ Yes, they all hoped Mum would get better. Same for Grandpa. Yes, Grandma did have a lot on her plate at the moment. But, yes, Mum would get better.

Maria listened, glancing between Josie and Nico as if checking they were still there.

After his thoughts going round in circles for most of the morning, Nico realised he knew someone to talk to, someone with a wealth of experience. Nan Heather, Rob and Hannah’s grandmother, had fostered many children. Correctly assuming an elderly lady would have a landline, he ascertained her number from thephonebook.bt.com and called her up while the girls played in the lounge.

He found he didn’t have to remind her who he was. She wore her ninety years lightly.

‘Can I help you?’ Nan Heather’s voice reminded him of a chesty mouse.

‘Hope so.’ He plunged into the story of how Maria had come to be staying with him again and what had been asked of him. ‘I’m frying my brain, trying to decide what to do,’ he ended ruefully.

‘Hmm,’ said Nan. ‘You’ve talked of responsibility but you must also be pragmatic. Maria’s birth dad isn’t in the picture?’