She’s told me this at least half a dozen times. But I won’t get wound up; it can’t be easy to relinquish control of any aspect of Casey’s life, especially when she’s sick. Besides, it’s the first time I’ve been alone with Angelica since they arrived, and I need to find something out.

I go to the fridge, pour two glasses of water from the dispenser and sit down opposite her. ‘Angelica, what’s the deal with Casey’s wig?’ I speak quietly.

‘Shh. She’s very self-conscious about it.’

I get up again, push the living-room door shut. ‘Does she ever take it off?’

‘She hadn’t worn it for months before we came here. Then, guess what, on the drive down, she put it back on before we got to your flat.’

‘She’s wearing it for me?’

Angelica stares at me, pityingly. ‘You must see how desperate she is to impress you?’

I shrug. ‘That’s crazy. She doesn’t have to impress me.’

‘I’ve told her that. But I think she’s hoping that you’re going to fall in love with the idea of having a daughter – and then you and I will fall in love into the bargain – so we can all live happily ever after.’

Shit.

She continues to stare me down. ‘You’ve got no intention of staying in touch with us after this, have you? A month of playing at parenthood and you’ll be laid-back Dan Lennon again, not a care in the world.’

‘Which is what Casey asked for. I haven’t promised any more than that.’

‘Even if you had, we both know you don’t take promises seriously. But I worked very hard so that Casey would never have to find that out.’

‘Angelica, you’re right. I’m not into commitment. Which is why I never wanted to get involved, because I knew I’d let you both down.’

‘How noble of you. How self-aware you are.’

‘I’m not noble. But I understand my limitations.’

She shakes her head in disbelief. ‘No, Dan. You believe that you’re special, that you’re exempt from the normal rules of human contact. But that’s not special, it’s . . . empty.’ For the first time she doesn’t seem to be trying to score points; she sounds genuinely bemused.

My ears start ringing and I want to turn on the stereo, put on the hardest of hard rock to drown out another voice that’s repeating: I can see through you. You’re a charmer but there’s nothing underneath.

‘I didn’t ask for any of this,’ I say, but it sounds even more shallow than I meant it to.

‘And I didn’t ask to be a single mother. Your daughter didn’t ask for a brain tumour. But we muddle through.’

‘Casey’s a credit to you.’

‘She’s her own person. A survivor. And I’m scared you’re going to hurt her, because I know she wants more than four weeks of fancy meals and shopping trips. But she’ll survive, and get stronger as a result, just like I did. That’s what living is about.’