Unfortunate ex-wife sounded a little like my late husband, gone but very much not forgotten. Ingrid gave a small, expressive shrug. ‘Well. She really has got her just desserts.’

Ava said, ‘How come? You mean because she hasn’t got Mark any more?’

Ingrid frowned. ‘Really, Ava. Do you have to call him that? He’s your father. I know that he wasn’t able to dandle you on his knee and all of that, but given how things have turned out, is it really so impossible for you to call him Dad?’

Ava looked faintly sick. ‘I think I’m just a bit old for that,’ she muttered.

‘Nonsense. Your father is always your father and always will be, and now you actually know who he is, it’s the least you can do to acknowledge him.’ Ingrid turned back to Mum. ‘That really is a splendid engagement ring, by the way. I believe you were involved in choosing it?’

‘Yes, we chose it together.’

‘Lovely. How very modern. I did offer him mine, once I knew he had proposed, but he declined. I think he felt it might be a bit old-fashioned for you. But I’ll leave it to you in my will, anyway. Then you can have it reset or do with it as you will.’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ Mum said stiffly.

‘Oh, you’re very welcome. It’s all been rather a rush, hasn’t it? But then, you’re wise not to hang about. You look well on it, I must say. Some women really do carry better than others, don’t they? How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking? Thirty-six? Thirty-seven? Mm. Well, yes. I can see why you might have felt it was time to get cracking. I presume you’ve heard about Paula’s trials and tribulations in that area.’ She mentioned Paula with a mix of satisfaction and wary disgust, as if Mark’s first wife was a criminal who was now safely locked up. ‘Given how things have turned out, that woman’s life is ruined. Deservedly so, in my view.’

Mum looked bemused. Ava said, ‘You mean, ruined because she’s not blessed with Dad’s presence any more?’

Ingrid raised her eyebrows. They were very well shaped; perhaps she had them professionally done, something Mum had experimented with once or twice but without great success, having come back either too bushy or too hairless to look like her normal self. Ingrid’s eyebrows made her look like a gracious lady. That was exactly what I wanted mine to look like when I was grown up.

‘It’s not a subject to be flippant about,’ she said.

‘Why not?’ Ava demanded. ‘What happened to her?’

Ingrid looked round at all three of us. There was an unexpectedly wicked glint in her eyes, as if Ava had just given her a dare and she was minded to surprise us all by rising to the challenge.

Was this going to be it? The thing I had been afraid of, the thing I was scared to face?