‘Yeah, not highly recommended.’ He pulls up his sleeve to reveal a big red scar. ‘But it paid well.’

‘What happened?’

‘A faulty piece of equipment. But it is one of the most dangerous jobs in America. Statistically. They didn’t tell me that at the interview!’

‘And after that …?’ I ask, feeling like a detective again. ‘What do you do now?’

‘It’s complicated. Why don’t I tell you instead about—’

This is too much. ‘Complicated? I thought you said I was smart. You’re not telling me anything.’

‘I just don’t want to disappoint you—it’s hard to explain.’

Disappoint—how ironic. He did that sixteen years ago when he left.

‘Let’s just talk about something else,’ he says tenderly. ‘Please, Sky? I have a birthday present for you. I was going to wait until later but …’ He swivels around to reach into a backpack hanging from his chair.

‘Bro!’ Someone calls from the other side of the restaurant, and my father looks up.

‘Oh no,’ he says, putting his hand to his face. Must be someone he doesn’t like.

‘Yo! How insane. I was just thinking of you.’ A man walks up to our table, beaming. He wears a cowboy hat and a thin goatee. A young woman follows, orange lipstick and blonde hair sprayed high like a pageant girl’s.

My father plasters on a smile. ‘Ralph, nice to see you but—’

‘We have to go out together. Are you free this week? Tell me you have time for me?’

‘Sorry, can we talk another time? Just having a moment here with my daughter who’s visiting from Australia and—’

Ralph smiles at me. ‘She’s a beauty. And this here is my gorgeous wife, Barbara, just married last fall. Honey cakes,’ he turns to her, ‘wasn’t I just tellin’ you about this dude at the Lodge, and how I gotta call him? We only have a few days in town and no time to mess around. He’s like the best guide in the world. D’y’all hunt down under too?’ he asks me.

Lodge? Hunting? He must have got the wrong person. I study my father’s face. He’s turned pale.

‘That bear I bagged last year, Adam, how frickin’ awesome was that? Took us hours to track it.’ He looks at Barbara, eyes lit up. ‘The bastard gave us a run for our money, but this here Adam didn’t give up—best damn tracker in town. I took it by surprise in the end. Bam!’ He points his finger.

I jump slightly and my cutlery rattles.

‘Nice clean shot I made too. Didn’t I?’

‘Sure did,’ my father says.

‘Now he’s my living-room rug. And remember that deer? He was a beauty. What are they called again?’

‘Sitka black-tailed.’