In the end he and Gemma had to take a last-minute cancellation and didn’t arrive in the UK until two days before Christmas. Jet lag hit them both hard and they spent most of the first day sleeping. Well, twenty hours was a long flight and with an eight-hour time difference between the UK and Western Australia at this time of year, a big strain on the body.

It made him sad to think that his parents were dead, but he’d contacted his uncle who had spread the word that the wanderer was coming back for a visit. When their daughter, a cousin who’d been born after Adam left England and whom he’d never even met, invited them to spend Christmas Day at her house with the aunt and the rest of the family, he didn’t feel he could refuse.

It was a pleasant gathering and luckily there were a couple of girls of his daughter’s age for Gemma to talk to. Some of the younger relatives bombarded him with questions about Australia. It always amazed him how many Poms had considered or were considering emigrating.

He drove there and back in the small hired car. However, when the cousin offered them a bed, he pleaded another engagement the following day and took Gemma back to their comfortable London hotel.

‘You don’t look at all like them, do you?’ Gemma commented as they drove back to London along the busy M4 motorway.

‘No. Um, I’d better tell you now that I was adopted.’

‘You never said!’

‘I only found out after your mother and I split up at that time you and your mother weren’t having much to do with me.’

‘Did it upset you?’

‘No. Actually, it didn’t seem to matter at all. My parents did everything birth parents could have done and I loved them dearly. I’m not even sure any of the younger generation know about it, though my uncle and aunt do of course.’

‘So those people today weren’t our relatives at all, really.’

She sounded sad. ‘No. But they’re as near as I’ve got, except for you. And is there that much difference between a blood relative and the person who brought you up or the other people who welcomed you into their family?’

She shrugged. ‘It feels different to me. I’d been looking forward to meeting my English relatives.’

‘You’ve got your mother’s family in Australia, if the lack of blood relatives worries you.’

‘They aren’t exactly a close family, though, are they? They hardly ever saw one another. I’m glad I’ve got you still.’

She gave him a sudden hug, then changed the subject quickly, as if embarrassed by her own emotions.

These occasional, spontaneous hugs meant a great deal to him.

They spent the afternoon of Boxing Day walking along the Thames, dodging showers and taking shelter in a café for a while.

They were both looking forward to the end of the holiday break, when places would be open again, including some of the tourist attractions they had on their list.