‘I don’t know, either,’ he replied, his eyes mournful. ‘She’s never going to let me forget this, is she?’ he added after a moment.

‘Probably not,’ Paula agreed. ‘But then again . . .’ Her own hurt feelings lay like a tight bandage around her chest. ‘I dunno, Dad. I feel kind of sad about it myself,’ she confessed. ‘I mean, I’ve always looked up to you and Mum as, like, the happy-ever-after to aspire to. And now . . .’

He flinched but didn’t look away. ‘I’m sorry, love,’ he said. ‘I’m really, truly sorry. I was a selfish young idiot – there’s no excuse. I never did it again, though.’ His voice shook. ‘Because I love your mother. I absolutely worship that woman. And as soon as Kathy left town, it was like the scales dropped from my eyes. I looked around me and realized how lucky I was, with your mum and you kiddies, and I realized, too, just what I stood to lose. You bloody fool, I thought. You stupid, stupid man.’ He buttered another piece of toast and shook his head. ‘It taught me not to take anything for granted. And from that day on, I devoted myself to Jeanie and the family. I swear.’

Paula nodded, believing him. He was a good man at heart, she knew that, and this whole saga seemed to have aged him, to have ground him down. He looked tired and defeated, a fuzz of stubble on his jawline, an ink smudge on his shirt. Sometimes you forgot that your parents were fallible human beings too, especially when they’d previously seemed so adept at life. ‘So what happens now?’ she asked. ‘I mean, Mum was pretty clear that she wanted nothing to do with Frankie. So what will you do if she turns up again, and Mum gives you an It’s-me-or-her ultimatum again? Who will you choose?’

Harry poked a triangle of toast into his fried egg and bit off the corner. ‘I’m not going to be had by any ultimatums,’ he replied, munching. ‘I’ll choose them both, of course. And if your mother has ever loved me, then she’ll know she can’t ask that of me. I can’t turn away my own daughter.’

‘Good,’ said Paula, remembering the alarmed face of her half-sister on the few seconds of video she had. Remembering too how strong a pull she, Paula, had felt inside, at the sight of her. That woman is my sister. My actual, real sister. ‘Then I’ll stand by you,’ she promised her dad. ‘Because I want to meet her too. Whatever Mum says.’

‘Whee! You’re flying! You’re a bird! You’re an eagle!’