‘Yeah,’ Sophie said.

Knees, gripping, relaxed posture. ‘Did he ever do anything with either of you that made you feel uncomfortable or …?’

‘Smoke,’ Oliver said.

‘Yeah, smoking,’ Sophie said, frowning. ‘That’s one thing.’

‘Yeah.’ I loosened my grip. ‘It’s not good for someone to smoke, but it’s not bad for you kids directly, is it? I mean, if he’s doing it away from you, in the garden. There was nothing he did around you kids, like, I don’t know, play with you or fight with you or hold you or touch you in a way you felt was wrong or bad?’

Boom. Bile. Chew.

‘No,’ Sophie said.

‘Nothing when he was putting you to bed at night that made you feel uncomfortable about –’

‘Hmm.’ Oliver laughed, bit his lip, looked down. ‘Maybe one thing.’

Hands gripping my kneecaps, boom, sweat prickling, boom, knuckles hurting, giddy, blood sugar, heartbeat, nausea.

… you think about things deeply and can provide clarity and insight into …

‘What was it?’ I said. ‘What made you feel uncomfortable, buddy?’

‘I don’t want to say.’

‘Oh, why not?’ I said, smiling.

‘He feels stupid,’ Sophie said.

Your love of your children, and of Sarah …

‘Oh, really?’ I said.

My fucking knees … Fucking come on.

Oliver looked at the table, blushed. ‘I sometimes just wished that you and Mummy were there at bedtime to hug me.’

Your smile, which lights up your face and makes your eyes so warm ...

Sophie laughed. ‘Yeah, me too, Daddy.’

I laughed too. Fucking right I did. Fucking right. Kudos to fucking everyone. Fucking … No, I was crying, no, I wasn’t, I was laughing. Fucking ha. Woah.

‘OK, well, that’s good to hear,’ I said. ‘I just wanted to make sure he hadn’t done anything to you kids that you feel bad about. If you remember anything you think was a bit strange, you can always tell me or Mummy, OK? You’ll never get into trouble for telling us any secrets.’

‘What if someone at school tells us not to tell you we’ve fallen over and cut our leg?’ Oliver said.

‘You should still tell us that.’

‘Yeah,’ Sophie said, nodding at him. ‘They’d probably know anyway because when you came home, they’d see it.’

‘That’s right,’ I said.

‘It depends where it is, though,’ Oliver said.

‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘Basically, the people who care about you the most in the world are Mummy or Daddy or Biddy.’

‘You mean Mummy and Daddy and Biddy,’ Oliver said. He was so pedantic.

‘OK,’ Sophie said. ‘I’ll tell you one thing we did in Aftercare. Played the Zombie Glitch game.’

Oliver looked incensed, face contorted. ‘It wasn’t the Zombie Glitch game. It’s just that there were humans, robots and Glitches. Glitches can turn other Glitches into humans, or, um … but you can’t kill Glitches. And you start as a human but –’