‘I’ll go, it’s my fault.’ I squeeze him on the arm, feeling even more guilty. I guess that if I’m going to bring him into situations like this I should open up to him more.

As I walk down the hallway, I can’t help but overhear the conversation happening in the kitchen and I stop to listen.

‘So Edie mentioned roadrunners earlier and it made me think of an interesting fact; did you want to hear it?’ asks Miles.

I knew he’d have a fact about it.

‘About the TV show?’ Even from afar, I can detect the confusion in Dad’s tone.

‘No, the birds in the wild.’

‘Oh right, go on then.’

‘Roadrunners are actually members of the cuckoo family.’

‘Really?’

Dad doesn’t sound impressed. It’s a shame because I always thought Dad would be one of the few people who would get Miles’s random facts; after all, he and Miles are quite similar in a way – Dad’s always telling me about odd things he’s read in the paper or seen in a documentary. I almost turn back towards the kitchen, wondering if they need a bit longer to get to know each other before they’re left alone.

‘Well, did you know that they’re quick enough to eat a rattlesnake?’ adds Dad.

‘What? Now, that is impressive,’ says Miles.

I hear the genuine tone of enthusiasm in both of their voices, as Miles starts telling him about rattlesnakes.

I head outside, content in the knowledge that the two of them have found some common ground.

I open the car and I sit down, sliding the offending wine bottle into the footwell. I know I should have told Miles about Dad before now, but, much like my mum’s death, it’s a period of my life that I’d rather forget.

It all happened so gradually that I didn’t realise for a while that he had a drinking problem. I guess in my naivety I had misconceptions of what an alcoholic looked like. At first we all cut him a bit of slack over turning up for work late. I put it down to his being almost the opposite of me: whereas I threw myself into work and wanted to be in a place that reminded me of Mum, Dad almost couldn’t bear it.