‘It was my friend Corey who spotted Maria Pojes, drinking in a hotel bar,’ Dad’s saying. ‘Our first night in LA. He dragged me over, offered to buy her a drink …’ He laughs reminiscently. ‘She wouldn’t accept it, of course. But she was sweet to us. Signed our books.’

‘Wow.’ I nod again. ‘Fantastic.’

‘And so …’ To my surprise, Dad presses the open autograph book into my hand. ‘Over to you, Becky. Fill her up with some new blood.’

‘What?’ I stare at him. ‘Dad, I can’t take this!’

‘Half the book’s empty.’ He points at the blank pages. ‘You’re off to Hollywood. Finish the collection.’

I look at it nervously. ‘But what if I lose it or something?’

‘You won’t lose it. But you’ll have adventures.’ Dad’s face flickers oddly. ‘Oh, Becky, love, I am envious. I’ve never known anything like those adventures I had in California.’

‘Like the rodeo?’ I say. I’ve heard that story a zillion times.

‘That.’ He nods. ‘And … other things.’ He pats my hand, twinkling. ‘Get me John Travolta’s signature. I’d like that.’

‘What’s the other favour?’ I say, putting the autograph book carefully into my bag.

‘Just a small thing.’ He reaches into his pocket and produces a slip of paper. ‘Look up my old friend Brent. He always lived in Los Angeles. This is his old address. See if you can track him down. Say hello from me.’

‘OK.’ I look at the name: Brent Lewis. There’s an address in Sherman Oaks, and a phone number. ‘Why don’t you call him up?’ I suggest. ‘Or text him? Or Skype! It’s easy.’

As I say the word ‘Skype’ I can see Dad recoiling. We once tried to Skype Jess in Chile and it wasn’t exactly a resounding success. The picture kept freezing, so we gave up. But then the sound suddenly came back on and we could hear Jess and Tom having a row about Janice while they made their supper. It was all a bit embarrassing.

‘No, you go and say hello,’ says Dad. ‘If he wants to, we can take it from there. Like I say, it’s been a long time. He may not be interested.’

I really don’t get the older generation. They’re so reticent. If it were me getting in touch with my old friend from all those years ago, I’d be sending them a text instantly: Hi! Wow, it’s been decades! How did THAT happen? Or I’d track them down on Facebook. But Dad and Mum just aren’t into it.

‘Fine,’ I say, and put the piece of paper into my bag, too. ‘What about your other two friends?’

‘Corey and Raymond?’ He shakes his head. ‘They live too far away. Las Vegas, Corey is. I think Raymond’s in Arizona somewhere. I’ve stayed in touch with them … at least, I have in a way. But Brent just disappeared.’

‘Shame you didn’t have Facebook back then.’

‘Indeed.’ He nods.

‘Oh, thank you so much! They’re a new present from my husband.’ Mum’s voice rises above the hubbub and I turn to look. Some lady I don’t recognize is admiring her pearls, and Mum is preening in delight. ‘Yes, lovely, aren’t they?’