“If you’re very hungry, Daddy, you can have your breakfast first.”

“That’s noble of you,” I said.

I plugged in the kettle and switched on the grill. I opened the refrigerator and took out the orange juice and the ice tray.

“Don’t forget the straws, Daddy.”

“Give me time, honey,” I said.

She jumped down from her stool and caught hold of my knees. “I want to tell you something,” she said. “Bend down, Daddy.” She put her mouth to my ear.

“When I’m big,” she whispered, then looked at the door to see if anyone was coming – “when I’m big I’ll make you your breakfast every morning, I will.”

“You’re a dear little girl,” I said.

“I won’t ever leave you, not ever.”

I handed her the glass of orange juice. She smiled; her teeth were small, white and evenly spaced. “You’ll leave me one day,” I said. I put my arm around her shoulders; she wasn’t under­nourished but she was very thin.

“I’ll stay here for ever and ever,” she said.

She clambered back to the stool.

“I’m hungry, Daddy.”

“Wait a moment, I’ve only got two pairs of hands,” I parodied an old man wheezing, bent nearly double.

She exploded into shrill laughter. “Oh, Daddy, you are funny! Daddy, do it again!”

“I’ve only three pairs of hands,” I said, shuffling about the kit­chen. “I’m a poor old man with only four pairs of hands . . .”

“You’ve only one pair of hands,” Barbara shrieked. “Silly Daddy.”

“That’s right,” I said. “I’ve only five pairs of hands.” I poured the cereal into her dish.

I was free, the sausages were browning on the grill, the kitchen was full of sunlight and Barbara’s laughter. I was free and Susan had set me free. Two could play at that game; I would salvage my pride and I would please myself at one and the same time. It was as if I’d been given back the ten years of my marriage.

Barbara was still laughing; sometimes her laughter crossed the border into tears. I shook her gently. “Eat your breakfast or I’ll smack you with all my six pairs of hands,” I said.

“You wouldn’t really, would you, Daddy?” she said.

“You don’t know what I’d do,” I said. “Your Daddy’s a most astounding man.”

14

14

“How much longer is the slaughter to continue?” Hewley asked. He pounded the table; this was a gesture which had made every­one jump once, but now it only meant that he was approaching the end of his diatribe. “We have repeatedly asked the Ministry of Transport to allow us to install traffic lights at this junction. Since we last asked there have been three serious accidents—”