“You shouldn’t listen to what isn’t meant for you to hear,” I said.

“And you’ve been sleeping in my room. I asked Mummy if you had but she said you hadn’t. I asked her in the holidays and she said you hadn’t. But I knew you had because there’s a cigarette burn in my Indian blanket.”

“I’ll buy you another one,” I said, feeling as guilty as if it were his sole possession and I had sold it for drink.

“I don’t want another one,” he said. “You’ve spoiled it now.” He began to bite his nails. “Why did you sleep in my room?”

I took his hand away from his mouth. “There are things you can’t understand yet,” I said. “But people make mistakes. I made a mistake and your mother made a mistake.”

His hand stayed in mine. “Did Uncle Mark make a mistake?”

“He’s made a great many.”

“You’re hurting my hand, Daddy.”

“I’m sorry.”

Suddenly the look of loneliness on Harry’s face was too much to bear. The mention of Mark’s name had brought back the old hatred, the urge to destroy; I would never get rid of that hatred, but I had no time for it now. Harry was by himself, Harry was lost, and there was a cigarette burn in his Indian blanket. I put my arm around him.

“Harry, you feel I’ve let you down. I didn’t mean to, love. Things got too much for me, so I ran away. Grown-ups run away too. I came back because I thought you needed me. You’re my son. If you need me, I’ll always be there.”

“Big deal,” he said. “You still didn’t come when I asked you. You never bothered to write to me. You never came to the school. You were too busy with that Mrs. Hauxley. I know what you were doing with her, but I’ve not to say it. I said it to Mummy and she smacked my face—”

“You say it if you want to. Whatever word you use, I’ll have heard it. It won’t help matters, will it, though?”

He moved away from me. “You’ll lose your temper soon,” he said. “Everyone loses their temper with me. You’re going to start shout­ing soon. You always do, anyway. I’m not going to tell you. I’m not going to tell any of you anything because you’re all silly and rotten and none of you wants me, not even Barbara—”

“She’s only a baby,” I said gently.

“She doesn’t want me. No one wants me. All of you can go to hell!”

He looked up at me to see if I was shocked. I smiled at him.