‘It’s okay to feel hurt,’ she interrupts. ‘You’ve been through so much, dear. Losing your mother, and I can’t imagine how stressful it has been for you coming here to meet Adam. And in mid-winter to boot, another inappropriate decision on his part.’

‘Well, it’s summer holidays at home, and the best time to—’

‘Yes, yes, I know. Anyway, he didn’t do it maliciously, keeping his job from you. He assumed you’d be dead against it. Excuse the pun. He just wanted a chance for you to get to know each other before you made up your mind about him … He wanted to make a good impression.’

‘I guess.’ I hadn’t thought of it like that exactly.

‘To be honest, I’m not impressed. Ouch!’ She looks down at the beautician with a frown before continuing. ‘I avoid talking about it with my friends at bridge—some of them don’t even know what my own son does for a living. All their children are in respectable careers— lawyers, doctors, bankers, and the like. The whole picture,’ she waves her hands towards the glass doors, fingernails buffed with a French polish, ‘his lifestyle, well, how do I put this? It’s not the way we raised him. At first Mike and I thought it was pure rebellion. But he’s a little old to behave like a teenager at thirty-six, don’t you think?’

The beautician squeezes moisturiser from a tube and starts to massage my feet. I take a breath as I enjoy the sensation.

‘Did you know his ex-wife?’ I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to ask, but finally I have some way to find out more about my father and his past.

‘Yes, we met Stephanie many times. She wouldn’t have been my choice. A real salt-of-the-earth girl, not like anyone we know. But that seems to be a pattern with him. What I’ve done to deserve it,’ she sighs dramatically, ‘I don’t know. Stephanie lived in raggedy jeans and oversized T-shirts, and had a seemingly endless supply of hideous flannels. She drew Adam into this wilderness lifestyle. He was lost after he returned from Australia. But I suppose we have to credit her for getting him out of his depression.’

‘Depression?’ I furrow my brows, trying to imagine my father depressed.