After we had watched Patricia and my father exchange vows in the registry office we repaired, along with a handful of close friends of the bride and groom, to a nearby restaurant for dinner. During dessert, when my father had moved to the other end of the table to talk to some guests there, I turned to Patricia and said, “You know, Fizzy and I were saying, she should learn to drive. We’re up for a few weeks. Maybe you could give her a few lessons, to start her off?”

Patricia had widened her eyes, a spoonful of pavlova halfway to her mouth. “Oh, my darling girl, I’m not a driving instructor!”

I frowned. “You’ve given up?”

Patricia shook her head and put her hand on my arm. “Sorry, I thought it had all become glaringly apparent some time ago but you were just too polite to say. I’ve never taught anyone to drive before! And never again, I might add.”

I saw Fizzy smile in the chair next to her.

“A few years ago, when your father and I first became friends, he started to get desperately worried about you. He thought you had something on your mind but felt ill-equipped to help you himself, not being one to talk. He had all sorts of theories – that you wanted to find your mother, that you were being harassed, that you were ill. I offered to have a word, but he knew there’d be no way you’d agree to talk to a stranger – to anyone, he said – without a pretext. So, we came up with the driving instructor concept. It was, I’m afraid, a ruse.”

I blinked. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of this. All those months earlier, as we had celebrated my success over dinner, my image of my father had shifted as he revealed that I hadn’t been the only one nurturing a quiet love under a pragmatic exterior. And now, here was a new idea to weave into my picture of him. My father, the master plotter.

“You mustn’t be cross with him,” Patricia said hurriedly. “He has your best interests at heart. He was so relieved when I was able to tell him how simple it all was.”

“Simple?” I said.

Patricia nodded. “Yes. ‘She’s just in love!’ I told him. Of course, it all hinged on whether it was unrequited. That was my fear, for a time. So, I had to meet her – Fizzy – to see you together. But as soon as I had, I knew we had nothing to worry about.”

“Perhaps that explains why it took so long,” I said eventually. “If you’d been a real teacher I no doubt would have mastered the whole business in a week.”

Patricia raised her eyebrows for just the briefest of moments before nodding. “No doubt.”

Under the table, Fizzy squeezed my hand.