‘Yeah, sleeping through your mum’s snoring is probably pretty difficult,’ he muses. ‘At least you’ve got rid of all the other kids now. You should sleep better tonight. Does it hurt where they operated on you?’

He’s talking to her easily, I realise. He’s shooting the breeze like he chats with kids every day. I find that some childless adults freeze around children, that they have no earthly idea what to say or how to act.

‘My heart is a bit sore,’ she admits, her lower lip sticking out. ‘But they give me medicine to help.’

‘I think you’re really brave,’ Brendan says, gathering up the scattered playing cards. ‘I could never, ever be so brave as you. I broke my wrist playing rugby when I was a grown man and I screamed so loudly for my mum that they had to give me morphine just to shut me up. It was really embarrassing.’

I shake my head. This man. I’m ninety-nine per cent sure he’s making this shit up for Tabs’ sake, but it’s working, and it’s seriously sweet. I sit and watch as they interact: my tiny blonde daughter and this big, dark-haired brute of a man chatting away easily. Brendan is a giant kid, after all, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

He splits the deck of cards and laying them on the overbed table before performing a flawless dovetail shuffle that has Tabby’s jaw dropping.

‘Wow.’

‘Someone clearly spends too much time in Vegas,’ I mutter. Elaine has mentioned his penchant for boys’ weekends in Sin City.

‘Maybe I can teach you how to play poker while you’re stuck in here,’ he says, ignoring my jibe. ‘Then you could drop out of school and make millions at illegal poker games.’

‘Helpful, thanks,’ I tell him.

‘But I like school,’ she says, and my heart breaks a little. From the way his face softens, so does his.

‘Fair enough. Do you know what else this table would be amazing for?’ He slaps it. ‘LEGO. Do you like LEGO?’

‘I love it! I have some LEGO Friends at home that I got for my birfday.’

‘Which ones do you have? I have a niece, Elsie, who’s your age. She loves them.’

This is news to me, but it helps explain his ease with Tabs. Elsie must be the kid of Gabe and Brendan’s sister, Mairead.

‘Which ones does she have?’

He grimaces. ‘Not sure. Sorry. A diner, maybe? And, hang on—a villa, I think? She made me buy her that one for her last birthday.’

Tabby’s face lights up. She’s wanted a LEGO Friends villa for ages. ‘Does it have a yellow slide?’

‘I think so? Do you have that one?’

Her face falls. ‘No. It’s really ‘spensive.’