‘Oh, right. So, you said you had a daughter?’ He hadn’t, exactly, but she cast the line anyway. ‘She’s grown up, then? Lives with her mum?’

He straightened, looked her in the eyes. ‘She died.’

Petra put her hand over her mouth. ‘Oh, Vincent. Oh, God.’ Tentatively, she put out her hand, touched the tips of his fingers then withdrew. She waited for him to speak.

‘She had a congenital kidney disease. She needed a transplant.’

How could he just say this, like it was natural to move from cheap banter to the death of a child in a breath? ‘Oh,’ she uttered.

He raised his glass and talked into it as he tipped it. ‘There was one available. A donation, you know. I was ready to give her mine. We matched.’

‘So, then…?’

He put down the glass, opened his mouth, closed it again. Then he said, ‘It didn’t work out. Let’s just leave it at that.’

‘I’m sorry, you don’t need to talk about it.’

‘It’s fine. I wanted to tell you. I never want to treat her like a secret. I’m really proud of her. She’d never want me to use her as an excuse to be closed off or whatever.’

‘You get to act however the hell you please. I’m so sorry.’

He smiled at her, nodded.

‘When did this happen?’ she asked.

‘Last year. No, fifteen months ago. Just before Christmas.’

Petra winced. ‘Oh. Oh, no. But… but how are you so nice? How can you be so… normal after that? I would… I’d be…’

‘Beccie loved life. She had this… unquenchable joy. She’d want me to do the best I can to carry on. It’s hard sometimes. It’s really hard. And I get so angry. It could have been avoided.’

‘How old was she? Beccie.’ Petra tried the name on her lips, hoping it wasn’t a presumption too far.

‘She was sixteen.’

‘God. Do you mind me asking: where’s Beccie’s mom? How is she handling it?’

‘Cara left us when Beccie was three. She never wanted to live here, never wanted to have a family, didn’t particularly like me. She did try for a couple of years, but fell in love with an Italian guy and went home. Then she died in a hit-and-run in Walsall when Beccie was six.’

‘Oh. Jeez.’

‘Yeah. So me and Gloria and Max were all Beccie had for family.’

‘I’m so sorry, Vincent. It all sounds so incredibly hard.’

‘It was, yeah. I worried about how it would affect Beccie as she grew up, but in the long run, though I still feel really horrible thinking it, I believe it was better for Beccie to have grown up without Cara. As she got older, I realised she’s going to be fine.’ He stopped, replaying his words in his mind. ‘She was going to be fine.’ He sighed heavily and shook his head. ‘Anyway, I ought to tell you I was thinking of going away for a while.’

‘Really? Where?’