‘My dad’s coming to LA.’

‘Oh, brilliant!’ Her face lights up. ‘And your mum?’

‘It’s not brilliant. He’s run off, and only left a note for Mum.’

‘What?’ She stares at me, incredulously. ‘Your dad ran off?’

‘There’s something going on.’ I shake my head. ‘I don’t know what. It’s all to do with this trip he went on when he was much younger. He’s trying to track down one of his friends from it.’

‘What trip? Where did they go?’

‘I dunno.’ I shrug. ‘Round California and Arizona. They had this map. They went to LA … Las Vegas … maybe Utah too. Death Valley!’ I suddenly remember. ‘I’ve seen pictures of them in Death Valley.’

I wish I’d listened a bit harder now. Every Christmas Dad used to tell me about his trip and pull out his old map, with the red dotted line showing where they’d been.

‘Well, I expect he’ll turn up,’ says Suze reassuringly. ‘He’s probably just having a mid-life crisis.’

I shake my head. ‘He’s had that. He took guitar lessons.’

‘Oh.’ Suze thinks for a moment. ‘Is there such a thing as a later-life crisis?’

‘God knows. Probably.’

We head into the kitchen and I open the fridge to pour us each a glass of white wine. I don’t care what time it is, I need it.

‘Juice,’ says Minnie at once. ‘Juuuuuuice! Juuuuuuuice!’

‘OK!’ I say, and pour her a cup of Organic Carrot and Beetroot Juice Mix. They got her into it at the pre-school. It’s the most revolting thing I’ve ever tasted, and it costs $10.99 for a tiny carton, but apparently it’s ‘detoxing and low sugar’, so we’ve been asked to provide it instead of fruit juice. And the worst thing is, Minnie loves it. If I’m not careful, she’s going to turn into some junior Juicing Nazi and I’ll have to hide all my KitKats from her and pretend that chocolate oranges are macrobiotic.

‘So, where’s Tarkie?’ I ask as I hand Minnie her juice.

‘Do you have to ask?’ Suze’s jaw tightens. ‘You know he’s started going out at six a.m. every day for a Personal Validation session with Bryce? I barely see him any more.’

‘Wow. What’s Personal Validation?’

‘I don’t know!’ Suze erupts. ‘How would I know? I’m only his wife!’

‘Have some wine,’ I say hurriedly, and hand her a glass. ‘I’m sure it’s good for Tarkie to be doing all this. I mean, it’s got to be positive, hasn’t it? Personal validation? It’s better than impersonal validation, anyway.’

‘What is validation?’ counters Suze.

‘It’s … er … being yourself. Kind of thing.’ I try to sound knowledgeable. ‘You have to let go. And … be happy.’

‘It’s bollocks.’ Suze’s eyes flash at me.

‘Well … anyway. Cheers.’ I lift my wine glass and take a swig.

Suze takes a massive gulp, then another, then exhales, seeming a bit calmer. ‘So, how was the agent?’ she asks, and my spirits instantly rise. At least something is going well.