‘So. Is about your father. I do not want to cause offence, but I find it hard to be here with him. Why do you bring him back?’

I sigh. ‘He’s our dad. I couldn’t let him try and get home on his own. He should be here, with us.’

‘Why?’ He takes another sip of his coffee, which is thick and oily, it’s so strong. ‘I love Ruby-May. I love that little child. I feel like I lose a part of my heart when she die.’ He bangs his chest with one fist.

Bloody hell. I haven’t even talked like this with my family.

‘I know Dad was meant to be looking after her—’

‘He should keep her safe! She is the tiny child, no?’

‘Yes, but the thing is, he’s having problems with his memory. We didn’t know at the time. We thought he was being a bit forgetful – you know, getting older, nothing to worry about. But afterwards, after what happened, we took him for some tests and it looked like he was starting to suffer from dementia.’ It all sounds so straightforward when I say it like that. I don’t even mention the wine, or the cider brandy, or whatever it was he was drinking. Or not drinking. ‘So it’s our fault, you know? We ought to have realized and done something about it sooner. He shouldn’t have been left to look after Ruby-May on his own.’

‘You were not there,’ he says.

I glance over at him, and Luca pushes his hair out of his eyes. I can’t work out if he’s absolving me or accusing me. If I hadn’t been so fucking late.

‘It was such a short amount of time… And the gate to the pond was locked… No one could have known… It was an accident. An accident,’ I say more firmly, and I feel my guts twist. I’m disgusted with myself for blaming my father. But I still do. I can’t help it. I stand up. I should have been there.

‘I have made you sad. I am sorry.’ He holds out one hand to me.

I take it and we shake. I want to laugh, it’s so formal.

‘So, he has the dementia. Maybe.’

‘Yeah,’ I say.

‘I am sorry,’ he says again. ‘Must be difficult, no?’

‘Oh, it’s tough all right,’ I say. Nothing about being with my dad has ever been easy.