He shakes his head again as I wander past. My heart thumps as I take a breath, considering whether I need to tell him who I am, when he suddenly cries out, ‘Stella!’

‘Yes, Dad?’ When I turn he is smiling at me and still I feel my skin tingle each time this happens. ‘Shall I make us a cup of tea?’ I ask, smiling back. ‘I take it you’ve had your lunch?’

‘I, erm …’ He frowns.

‘Don’t worry.’ My heart splinters. ‘Shall I make a sandwich anyway?’

‘No. Don’t bother, love, I’m not hungry.’ He holds a hand against his flat stomach.

‘So what time were you supposed to be here, then?’ he asks as he follows me into the kitchen and watches me boil the kettle.

‘I didn’t say, Dad. This is just an extra visit.’

‘Oh. Okay.’

‘How are you feeling? Olivia says you haven’t been well. Is it a stomach bug?’

‘Yes, love, probably. I can’t stop sleeping and my head’s all fuzzy.’ His hands shake as they rest on the table. When the tea is made I pass him a mug and sit down next to him, taking his hands in my own, and for a moment all I can think is that there are so many years we will never claw back, and is it now far too late?

‘It’s a lovely day,’ I say, nodding outdoors. ‘Cold, but at least it’s stopped raining.’

He gazes out of his back door at the neat little garden beyond. ‘I had the, erm …’ he waggles a finger as he searches for the word ‘… you know, the man here yesterday.’

‘Man?’

‘Yes.’ He looks agitated. ‘He wasn’t wearing a uniform. You know what I mean.’

‘A policeman?’

‘Yes.’ He slaps his hand back down on the table. ‘A policeman was here yesterday wanting to talk to me.’

‘Did he ask you any questions?’ I say.

‘No, love.’ Dad screws his eyes up as if I must have known this. ‘I wasn’t well.’

‘Do you know what they want to talk to you about?’

He raises his shoulders, splaying his hands out in front of him.

‘I think it’s about Danny,’ I tell him. ‘And the body they found on the island.’

‘Do you remember that treehouse I built for you?’ Dad breaks into a smile. ‘I started thinking about that for some reason.’

‘I remember it.’ I smile sadly.

‘It took me a week and you and Danny were so impatient for it to be ready. I put it in the oak tree,’ he says. ‘I expect it’s still there.’

‘I expect so,’ I say, my heart sinking again.