‘I came with Mum.’ Roland held up his hands. They were thin and pale, the fingers long. ‘But if I’m not welcome, I’ll leave. I don’t want any problems.’

‘See you later, then.’

Roland shrugged. ‘See you later.’

‘Wait, Roland,’ his mum said. ‘Tom. I’d like you to consider changing your mind.’

‘No way.’

‘He’s your brother.’

‘He gave up any claim to that years ago.’

His mum shook her head. ‘It’s time to forgive,’ she said.

‘I can’t.’

‘Really?’ She folded her arms. ‘Because your dad and I have. And it was worse for us.’

It was worse for them. It was a lot worse. But still, it was too much to ask.

‘No.’

‘Tom,’ his mum said. ‘Please.’

Tom shifted uncomfortably. ‘I can’t.’

‘I’d like you to try.’

‘Why should I?’ he said.

‘For your father. He’d like to see his two sons reconciled.’

The subtext was clear: he wanted to see it before he died. It was not the kind of request you could refuse.

Tom waited a long time before he replied. He’d do it, but only for his dad.

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘He can stay. For now.’

Tom settled onto the sofa. ‘Where’s Alice?’ he asked.

‘She went to meet a friend,’ his mum said. ‘A police officer, about the case. You look tired, Tom.’

‘Tired doesn’t come close.’

‘I’ll make a cup of tea, then Roland and I can mind Jo. You can have a rest.’

Tom wanted to say No, I’ll be fine, but he simply nodded and watched her walk into the kitchen. Roland was sitting by Joanna’s Moses basket, looking down at her.

It was the first time he had met his niece.

‘They’re like little aliens,’ Roland said. ‘How do you know what to do?’

‘I don’t,’ Tom said. ‘Sometimes I feel like I have no idea.’

Roland grinned at him. His teeth were still stained, but he was starting to look less gaunt. A small pot-belly was establishing itself above his belt.

Joanna gave a whimper, then started to cry. It was amazing to Tom how she could go from peaceful to screaming in a matter of seconds.

‘Uh-oh,’ Roland said. He poked a long finger towards her. ‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘No need to cry.’ He tapped her on the chest a few times and she started to wail.

‘What did I do?’ he said, a look of mild panic on his face.

‘Nothing. She just woke up.’

‘So what do I do now?’

‘Pass her to me.’

‘You want me to pick her up?’

‘Yes.’

‘How?’

‘Put your hand under her neck and back and gently lift her.’

‘I can’t,’ Roland said. ‘I don’t know how.’

Tom walked over and took Jo from her basket. He sniffed her bottom.