Henry started flicking through, carefully scanning each page. I knew he’d found something when he paused, his entire body going still.

‘Is this him?’ he asked, moving across to show Pat a picture.

‘That was when we were first dating, back in the early seventies. If you keep going there’s wedding photos.’

Henry moved across to show me the page.

It was as if the air had been sucked out of every cell in my body. I had to blink to stop my vision dancing before taking a second look, because on the first glance, I’d have sworn I was looking at a photograph of my dad.

‘A handsome man,’ I choked out, and I wasn’t lying.

‘He certainly used to be.’ It was clear from Pat’s sour expression that she wasn’t remembering her late husband with fondness, or grief. More like irritation.

‘Do you have any children, if you don’t mind me asking?’

‘I don’t.’ She shrugged. ‘Tony wasn’t interested.’

‘You mentioned a first wife. Had he any children from before you were married?’

‘He wasn’t married more than a year or so. A disaster from the start, from what I gathered. So, no.’

‘Is it all right if I take a photo of this picture? I’m sure Joy would love to see it.’

‘Take it, if you want. I’ve plenty more.’

‘If you’re sure?’ My hand shook so hard Henry had to gently prise the photo out of the album for me. He also had the presence of mind to ask for her phone number, in case we had any further questions, which she reluctantly provided with the proviso that we didn’t contact her after six p.m.

‘Now, if you don’t mind, Corrie’s about to start.’

‘Thank you, you’ve been very helpful.’

‘If you say so.’

She had no idea.

29

‘I can’t believe it,’ I said for about the billionth time since we’d set off. Jed called when we were about half an hour from home, and I managed to garble out what had happened, including the latest stunning revelation.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked, his voice thrumming with tension. ‘Old photos aren’t always that clear.’

‘There were several pages of them. It was Dad smiling out at me in every one.’ I quickly took a picture of the photo and sent it to him.

‘Wow. Okay. What do we do now?’

‘Well, we won’t be asking his widow for money, that’s for sure,’ I replied with a weak laugh despite nothing about this being remotely funny.

‘Do we tell Dad?’

‘How can we not tell him?’

‘This might sound insensitive, but should we wait?’

‘You mean until Nana Joy isn’t here any more?’ I gripped the phone harder, nauseated by the whole conversation, my head starting to throb.