‘I want to hear his side. It blew my mind when I found out who my father was. I’ve been reading up about Michael for weeks now, and … you know, all the good things he’s done for the environment and his charities. And his music … the lyrics are beautiful. I’ve always had this picture of my real dad – sort of a cross between a serial killer and a vampire. To find out he’s this cool, mega-famous, environmentalist and musician … I mean, wow. And do you want to know something really weird? I’m in a band too.’

‘You’re in a band?’ Diane’s brown eyes turn wide and sincere.

‘Yes.’

‘You know, Michael started Crimson when he was sixteen. Maybe the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.’ Diane takes a deep breath. ‘Okay. Let’s go and talk to Michael.’

I shake my arms out, inhaling and exhaling. ‘Right. Yes. I’m ready.’

‘Come on.’ Diane pats my arm. ‘Don’t be nervous. He’s going to be blown away. Just blown away.’

I climb out of the passenger side, heaving Skywalker out onto dried mud and tree roots.

There are peacocks nearby, strutting through the trees. They watch Skywalker with cocked heads, seemingly unafraid. In fact, it’s Skywalker who is afraid, darting back from the birds and barking.

‘Skywalker. Heel.’

‘There’s Michael,’ she Diane, pointing at the short man standing on a now half-built stage. ‘Look at him, bossing people around. The lord of the manor.’

In my head, I rehearse the words over and over again:

Hello. My name is Liberty. I’m your daughter.

Hello. My name is Liberty. I’m your daughter.

Once upon a time …

‘You’re getting a belly.’ Michael knelt down to pinch flesh around my middle.

We were onstage at Wembley Arena – me sitting with legs crossed, looking out at thousands of empty seats flipped up like sad mouths.

Michael was striding between instruments, glaring at me and the set-up, finding fault with everything. Paul’s guitars were taking up far too much of the stage. The lighting was pointed at Paul too much. And I was getting fat.

‘It’s just the way I’m sitting,’ I said, rearranging my clothing and pulling at my tight jeans.

‘Don’t let yourself go, now. I’m not into big, hefty women. You don’t want to go turning into your sister now, do you?’

‘My sister is beautiful,’ I say. ‘The most beautiful person I ever met.’

Michael’s eyes darkened. ‘Okay, okay. Enough of the hero worship. Beware of false idols, isn’t that what they say? Because from what I’ve seen, your sister resents you. She doesn’t want you to be happy. Remember how she was when I turned up on the doorstep?’