His father stops polishing his club but doesn’t look up. Instead his muscular shoulders tense, and the tendon in his neck bulges. ‘Have you been snooping around my things?’

‘No, of course not.’

His dad stands up, golf club still in hand. For a wild moment Theo wonders if he’s going to smack him with it. His father is looking at him now. His blue eyes are icy. ‘Then mind your own fucking business.’

Theo tries to hide his shock. His dad hasn’t spoken to him like that in years. ‘Who are you trying to find?’

‘Did you not hear me?’ His dad moves two paces towards him. His face has darkened. The old familiar fear resurfaces in Theo.

I’m not that scared little kid any more, he reminds himself.

‘Why won’t you talk about it? Maybe I can help?’

His dad lets out a nasty-sounding laugh. ‘You?’

Why are you such a prick? thinks Theo. But he stands his ground. Refuses to move back towards the door. ‘Yes, me. Do you know the couple from Wiltshire?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Then why the article?’

He puts the golf club down, leaning it against the kitchen table, and Theo lets out a small sigh of relief. ‘I just used it to write on. Not that it’s got anything to do with you.’

He’s lying. His dad must think he’s an idiot.

‘So what does Find Her mean?’

‘Why does everything have to have some hidden meaning with you? What is it you really want to ask me, huh? What is this really all about?’ He stares at Theo, his mouth set hard. ‘I’m a grown man, and I don’t have to run everything I do past you. Do you understand?’

Theo stares back. What are you hiding, Dad? Because I know you’re hiding something. ‘I’m not playing games,’ says Theo, trying to keep his voice even. ‘I’m asking you about that article, that’s all. You’ve seemed very preoccupied lately, like something’s troubling you.’

‘The only thing troubling me is you,’ he snaps.

Theo takes a deep breath. There’s no point in arguing with his father when he’s in this mood. He holds his hands up. ‘Fine, I’ll leave you to it, then.’ He picks up the bag from the table. ‘I take it you don’t want these?’

His dad scowls in response.

‘Then I’ll take them. Jen and I will eat them.’ He marches out of the kitchen with the bag and doesn’t look back until he’s behind the wheel of his Volvo. He half hopes his dad will follow him, to apologize. But, of course, he doesn’t. Theo dumps the cool-bag on the passenger seat and sits for a few minutes without turning on the ignition, guilt raining down on him, as it always does. Was he out of order? Should he have handled it differently?