“He’ll work it out in his own time,” I say. “Let him do it his way, Suze. You’re together again, that’s the main thing.” I glance at her in sudden terror. “I mean, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Suze gives a half laugh, half sob. “Oh God. Yes. We are. Yes.”

“Did you tell him about Owl’s Tower?”

“I will,” says Suze, and bites her lip, looking ashamed. “When we get home, I’ll tell him everything. Everything. But not now. He’s…he almost doesn’t want to know. He’s like a tennis player in the zone.”

“You’re right.” I watch him curiously. “He’s transformed!”

“Now, Graham,” Tarkie is saying as he takes a seat, “did you get my texts?”

“Absolutely,” Dad says. “Absolutely. But I’m a little confused. You say you’ve made ‘contact’ with Corey. Do you mean you’ve written to him? Sent him an email?”

“Not at all,” says Tarquin. “I’ve had a meeting with him.”

“A meeting?” Dad’s jaw drops. “A face-to-face meeting?”

“Over lunch.”

There’s a flabbergasted silence. Tarkie has had lunch with Corey?

“Tarkie, you’re…amazing!” stutters Suze.

“Not at all,” says Tarkie modestly. “The title helped, of course.”

“But what was your meeting about?” says Dad incredulously.

“About my new venture-capital company, seeking partnership with his.” Tarkie pauses. “My fictitious venture-capital company.”

Dad throws back his head and guffaws. “Tarquin, you’re a wonder.”

“Tarkie, you’re brilliant,” I say sincerely.

“Oh, please,” says Tarkie, looking embarrassed. “Absolutely not. But the good news is that I have access to Corey. The question is how we can best use this access. It’s a place to start, anyway.”

I blink at Tarkie, feeling impressed. He looks so grown-up and determined, in a way he never really has before.

“Well.” Dad seems a bit shell-shocked. “Tarquin, this is far, far better progress than I ever could have hoped.”

My mind is digesting this new fact. This changes everything. This could mean…I grab for my notebook, start crossing out ideas and adding others.

“We were planning a meeting to discuss the matter,” says Dad. “Later on perhaps, when everyone’s feeling”—he glances kindly at Suze—“a little more composed.”

“Great,” says Tarkie. “I’ll tell you everything I know. And now, how about a titchy to celebrate?”

—

We sit there for a while longer, quietly drinking and chatting and looking at the red rocks. And maybe there is something mystical in the Sedona air which empowers the soul, because I feel like finally, finally, we’re all calming down.

As we wander back to the hotel, Suze and Tarkie keep touching hands as though for reassurance, and every time they do, I feel a swell of gladness. Because I do not want to be a friend-of-divorce. It scars you for life.

“Your father’s wonderful,” says Tarkie, as we wait to cross the street.

“I know,” I say proudly.

“He’s Tarkie’s hero,” says Suze, and she squeezes his hand fondly.

“What did you talk about, all that time on the road?” I ask with genuine curiosity. I mean, I know Tarkie and my dad like each other, but I wouldn’t have thought they had that much in common. Apart from maybe golf.