As I pored over the images, I became aware of a thought scratching at the edges of my mind, a sense that something had been awry that day. Suddenly, sitting here on the carpet, I felt a tide of grief pour through me. I sniffed and swallowed. ‘The one thing I remember more than anything was that Dad didn’t want to go home.’ I tried to lock into the memory, to feel my way back into what had happened.

I’d smelled Dad’s tobacco.

Seen the blackberries, the playing cards, the bottles of beer.

‘I told Dad that Mum had sent me. He was worried about her and he wanted to know if she’d eaten, but he kept wanting to delay going home.’ Warm tears tumbled down my cheeks. I turned to face my sister who slid to the floor and gently took my hand in hers. ‘Like he dreaded it.’

The tobacco.

The beer.

Perfume.

‘There was a woman.’ I pulled my hand free and clasped it over my mouth. ‘That’s it. I remember her perfume. He didn’t want to go home because there was a woman in the back garden at the shop.’

Jasmina put her arms round me. ‘Didn’t you know?’

I shook my head. ‘Wait. Did you?’

‘I thought we all knew.’ She looked at Rubel and Dougie. ‘That day he said he was going for a haircut? And came back without one and with lipstick on his neck? Oh, God, Maya. I’m so sorry. I really thought . . . ’

I was trying to take it in. I felt hot all over. How could I have wiped the memory out? Had I simply papered over it?

‘It’s bound to feel weird.’ Jasmina dried my face with a tissue. ‘It does for me too and I wasn’t there. In a way, I think I knew less about Dad than you did. You always had such a . . . I don’t know how to describe it . . . special bond with him. That’s why I assumed you knew.’

‘Is that why he left us?’ I stammered. ‘For her?’ It was as though a bolt of electricity had shot through me. ‘Who was she?’

Jasmina’s expression was scared. ‘I honestly don’t know. I never met her.’

‘Do you know what really upsets me?’ I faced my sister. Turned and looked at Dougie and the words came out in a whoosh. ‘I’ve never seen him look that happy.’ Thoughts shook loose in my mind. They swirled, making me feel giddy. ‘There’s so much about his life that we don’t know. It’s like . . . there was the dad we knew and loved . . . and this whole other person who’s a stranger.’

Jasmina dabbed at my face with a tissue.

‘To think he’s been alive all this time,’ I said, stupefied. ‘Where the hell has he been living?’