“I can’t confirm the exact date,” the woman said, her tone suggesting she might have told him if he’d been less snotty. “I would imagine within the next two days. But of course it depends on other commitments.”

“So you have a lot of people illegally camping on council land, then.” Words leapt out of Alicia’s notebook. Alone. Feeling. When we’re together. She must have a boyfriend. He hadn’t realised. “Or is there some sort of emergency that might take precedence over these two jokers who’ve been living here for nearly two months now?”

“Sir, I’m calling as a courtesy to give you some information. There’s no point shouting.”

“I’m not shouting, I’m just asking.”

“If I feel you’re being abusive or threatening, I’m entitled to end the call.” She sounded almost smug about this. He forced himself not to take the bait.

“I see. Well, thank you for giving me the information your policy states I’m entitled to. I’ll look forward to receiving more informative updates in the future.” He was going to hang up without saying goodbye, but she beat him to it. The click of the receiver was loud in his ear.

He flicked randomly through another couple of pages of Alicia’s journal. He’d kill anyone else who looked, but he was her father. She’d never know. He’d keep his best poker face on and act properly surprised when she told him there was a new man in her life. He just wanted to know who it was. He turned over several pages, but confusingly, there was no mention of a name. Just a pronoun, he, repeated endlessly, occasionally emphasised with capitals or underlining. He had to look, how else was he supposed to find out what they were up to? The constant spectre of a teenage pregnancy, although surely these days all young girls would know better than to – he paused on an entry dated just a few days ago, transfixed by the phrase, I love how it feels. Would it be easier or harder to parent a girl who liked other girls instead? The word orgasm leapt off the page, shrieking like a mandrake. He heard Alicia’s footsteps on the stairs, slammed the book closed and leapt away.

“Dad?” She stood frowning in the doorway.

“You had the house phone on your desk,” he said, waving it like a talisman.

“I was out of credit.” She was good at looking casual, but so was he. Maybe it hadn’t said orgasm at all, maybe it was organic.

“I’ll top you up. Get a tenner from my wallet.” Of course it hadn’t said organic, why would she be writing about organic food in a journal about a boy?

“No, it’s fine, I’ve done it.”

“It’s all right, I’ll sub you a tenner.”

“It’s fine. You give me plenty. I just didn’t get round to it.”

He should be pleased that she wasn’t grasping and greedy like teenagers were supposed to be. He should be pleased she was managing her own finances, saving her summer wages, making her allowance last. Why did he feel like she was trying to placate him?