I can’t tell if it’s the tumour treatment or lack of money that have made Casey’s life so limited. And if it’s because she’s broke, then how come Dan has been living like this while his daughter struggles?

But he seems so determined to put things right that I can’t believe it’s been deliberate. As we add to the list, he keeps throwing in ideas. I see a new side to him, an imaginative guy who loves to problem-solve and make people happy.

Didn’t think I could fancy him any more than I did, but turns out I can.

‘Oh, I’ve thought of a big one,’ Casey says. ‘I am desperate to go up in a balloon.’

‘I went up in a balloon once with my husband,’ I say. ‘It was a treat when he finished a course of treatment. We felt like birds, free from everything that was stressing us out down on the ground.’

Dan frowns. ‘I can’t see Angelica saying yes to that, Casey. Not now, anyway. We could try to do it later in the year, when you come back.’

Casey grins like he’s promised to take her to the moon. And I don’t think it’s the balloon ride that’s thrilled her; it’s the idea that Bristol, and her dad, are part of her future.

We get a delivery of the most stunningly presented sushi – another thing on Casey’s list – and she snaps a photo of their jewellery-box colours to send to her friend, even though she spits out the sashimi and sticks to spring rolls and bubble tea after that.

As the sky fades from blue to purple to soft pink, the lights on the harbour fade up to compensate and Casey can’t stop yawning.

‘Mum would say that’s a sign I need my beauty sleep.’ She gives me and Bear a hug each before she goes to bed, and hesitates when she passes her dad.

At the last second she turns and hugs him too. His delighted smile lasts long after she’s left the room.

We’re alone, except for Bear, who lies on the fluffy rug on the floor. Alone, together, facing each other on the two giant leather sofas. When he stands up, I hold my breath, in case he’s coming closer. Instead he walks to the fridge. ‘Sure I can’t tempt you with a glass of rosé?’

I open my mouth to say no. ‘You know what . . . yes. A very small one.’

He nods and the glasses chink against each other when he brings the tray over. ‘My friends with kids always say this is the best part of the day. Casey’s way easier than having a toddler tearing around the place. But still, every day she doesn’t come to any harm feels like a reason to get the wine out.’

‘That was scary, when we thought we’d lost them.’

He shivers. ‘Terrifying. But that feeling when we found them . . . if you could bottle that high, I’d never bother with booze again.’