‘I think he’s quite nice,’ Ellie piped up.

We both stared at her. ‘He gave us some books,’ Ellie explained defiantly.

‘I wasn’t going to accept them. I thought it was too much,’ I said. ‘But Ellie was keen.’

‘They’re lovely books. All classics. But I would still think he was nice, even if he didn’t give us anything,’ Ellie said.

I kicked her under the table, and she reddened and quickly changed tack.

‘Not as nice as you, Daddy, obviously. But I think he’s making Mummy happy and it’s only fair, isn’t it? I mean, she should have her chance to be happy.’

Dad’s bonhomie vanished – it was remarkable how quickly that could happen – and he glared at her.

‘Fair has got nothing to do with it. He’s just come crawling out of the woodwork because he’s free.’

I said, ‘What do you mean, free? Was he married?’

Dad narrowed his eyes. This was the next stage on from the Face of Temptation: the Face of Compulsion, which said, I really need you to do what I want you to do next or I won’t be answerable for the consequences.

‘Ask your mother,’ he said. ‘What do you think of him?’

I hesitated. I could tell this really mattered to him, and that made it impossible to know what to say.

I could have said, He treats Mum well and he’s making an effort, so what’s not to like?

I could have said, At least he turns up on time.

I could have said, I’ve kind of got used to him being around. Because I had, in spite of myself. And yet I, of all people, knew exactly how easy it was for a man to disappear. The way Dad would, after this visit. The way he’d done for years.

So instead I just shrugged. ‘Seriously, what did you mean about him coming out of the woodwork?’

‘Oh, they’ll tell you all about that, by and by,’ Dad said. ‘I guess they’re waiting for their moment.’

Suddenly he looked completely crushed. This was the next stage after the Face of Compulsion: the Face of Defeat.

‘I’m going out for a smoke,’ he muttered, and grabbed his jacket and hurried out of the restaurant without looking at either of us.

‘He’s jealous, isn’t he?’ Ellie said.

‘Well, obviously it’s going to freak him out.’ What was I doing defending Dad? This never normally happened. ‘What was that all about, anyway? All that “Mark’s really nice, he gave me a big expensive present” stuff?’

‘But it’s true,’ Ellie protested.

‘Just because something’s true doesn’t mean you have to say it.’

Her eyes shone a bit: any minute now she’d cry, and everybody in the restaurant would stare at us and it would be embarrassing – even more embarrassing than Dad stumbling as he weaved round the tables – and I’d feel like a total bitch. Even though none of this was my fault. Her lower lip was trembling, and when she spoke it was in her most plaintive voice.