There was a pause during which all three of them looked at each other, leaving me feeling even more excluded than I did already.

“We met through the group,” my dad said finally. “Remember the counselling group I mentioned – the one we went to Iceland with the Christmas before last?”

I nodded.

“Well, Stuart is part of that. Stuart lost his wife and daughter in an accident a few years ago. She was twenty-seven and his daughter was only a baby.”

I looked at Stuart. His eyes were moist, and I felt guilty as hell. “I’m sorry. That must have been awful.”

Stuart didn’t reply. He just closed his eyes as if the mention of it was still too painful.

“Anyway,” my father added brightly. “We’ve been a good support to each other, I think.”

Stuart placed his hand on my father’s shoulder and then reached out and took my mother’s hand in a gesture that reminded me of a séance. I shivered. God, what was wrong with me? Maybe I just needed some sleep. I could feel myself getting light-headed.

I stood up. “I think I need a nap.”

I shook my head in response to Stuart’s renewed offer to take my bags upstairs. The idea of him walking into my childhood bedroom was one step too far, although something told me that it was a bit late for that, that he’d already explored every inch of this house.

I woke up three hours later, feeling marginally more clear-headed than I had earlier, deciding I needed to get up or I wouldn’t sleep tonight. Also, I was hungry. I pulled on jeans and a shirt and made my way downstairs to find my parents watching a wildlife documentary in the sitting room while Stuart cooked in the kitchen. Uncomfortable as I was to see another example of his installation, I had to admit it smelled great.

Dinner was a repeat of the earlier tea party with different food, this time a lasagne and salad. Stuart didn’t drink “any more” so there was no wine. I was happy enough with that since I’d had gin and red wine on the plane, but it was unusual for my parents who liked their Shiraz. But I kept my opinions to myself.

After dinner, I tried my best to stay up, but it became increasingly clear that Stuart was a night owl and I wasn’t going to out-sit him, especially with my repeated yawning. So eventually I turned in and left them all watching a crime drama, determined to get a chance to talk to my parents on their own before I left for Donegal the next day.