‘Sorry. You still awake?’

‘Yes, I am very much awake.’

He looks past her to the trolley in the middle of the room. ‘Ah, it was room service. Finally got your appetite back then?’

‘I thought I better eat something,’ she pulls back. ‘Come in, you’ll probably like it.’

He sits on the bed and pulls the trolley over. ‘Jesus. Why did you order so much?’

‘I didn’t know what I fancied.’

‘This is enough for three people. Are you one of those secret binge eaters?’

He’s embarrassed her. But what’s this about? Maybe she’s got some eating issues, refusing food all day, then ready to pig out like this alone at night.

‘I didn’t realise the portions would be this big,’ she says as she sits next to him. ‘All I wanted was a snack. Why are you not sleeping? I thought you were exhausted.’

He kicks off the hotel slippers and puts his feet up on the bed. ‘I am.’

‘But you can’t sleep?’

He shakes his head and rubs his eyes. ‘Maybe filling up my stomach will help.’ He feels her watch as he makes a sandwich of falafel, pineapple chunks and chips. ‘You want me to make you one?’

‘No, no thanks. Just don’t get that all over my bed.’ She puts a piece of falafel on a napkin and picks at it. ‘How are you feeling about tomorrow? About seeing your grandparents?’

While seeing his grandparents was one of the main reasons for returning to Kenya, it’s also one of the things that has been stressing him out the most, especially after Dad reminded him of how distant they had been in the past.

‘Hmm, I’m kind of nervous. The last time they came to England was five years ago and it was weird. Nana offered to put them up at hers and they sort of refused. Plus, they were always a bit off with Dad.’

She leans back and looks away. It’s so obvious that she’s thinking about what to say next, so he fills the silence quickly. ‘I know my grandparents and Dad never got along. I remember that, from when Mum was alive. But I’m sure it felt worse after I moved in with Dad. Do you think it’s because they thought I should have stayed here with them?’

Again she looks away, this time down to her napkin, which she’s shredded into thin strips.

‘Yvonne, please?’ he laughs. ‘Tell me what you think.’

She wipes the crumbs from the bed. ‘They were already well into their forties when they had Emma. Neil was never the most patient man in the world and Cynthia used to find it quite hard looking after you when you stayed out here.’

He doesn’t remember this. ‘Why? Was I difficult?’

‘Not particularly. But little boys are energetic.’