The kitchen was cold. He would have to put the heating on soon. How would Ava survive, down in the beach hut? He didn’t care what happened to Finn but he didn’t like to imagine Ava shivering and blue. Could he invite her here? Just for a few stolen hours to start with, snatched at the end of the evening’s trade and ending before daybreak. Perhaps they wouldn’t have to hide. Alicia liked her…

The beach hut had been warm yesterday afternoon. But then, yesterday afternoon they had made their own warmth.

And then again, Ava might not be willing.

Alicia was waking up. He could hear her yawning as she padded into the bathroom. He took two mugs from the cupboard and made coffee, hoping she wouldn’t take so long in the shower that hers would grow cold. The coffee’s sour clutch at the base of his stomach made him realise he was starving. He shoved two slices of bread into the toaster, snatched them out as soon as they showed faint signs of becoming toast, then slathered them with Flora and Oxford marmalade. Why did he crave bitter tastes when the feeling that suffused him was one of such sweetness? Alicia’s coffee steamed reproachfully on the cold countertop as he made two more slices and wolfed them down.

When she finally came in, she had that pink scrubbed look that faintly recalled her babyhood, and her hair hung on her shoulders in a thick wet mass. She looked especially pretty today, but also tired. He remembered how she had looked last night – flushed and female and lovely – and the thought that had occurred to him.

Well, why not, he thought. Bloody good for her. We’re all of us a long time dead.

“I made you coffee,” he said. “Might be cold, though.”

“Thanks.” She took a mouthful and grimaced.

“I’ll do you another one.”

“No, this is fine.”

“Course it’s not.” He took her mug away from her.

“Da-ad… ”

“Ali-cia… ”

“That one was fine!”

“That one was fiiiiine.... my dad is sooo mean, he makes me fresh coffee without even being aaaasked… ” Sometimes this went appallingly wrong and he ended up making her cry, but this morning it seemed to be working. She smiled at him and it looked like a genuine smile, so he risked a teenage flappy-armed flounce over to the kettle. He stirred the coffee, then took it over to her. As she took the mug from him, he saw that her eyes were swimming and shiny.

“Oh, hey, come on.” He knelt beside her and put a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Alicia, you have to stop being so sensitive. I was joking, you know I was.”

“It’s not that. It’s just – you’re such a great dad. You’re always there and you always look after me and I know you love me. I’m so lucky.”

“Oh, pet.” He had to swallow hard. “Don’t you dare say any more or I’ll cry as well.”