I snuggle up to him on the sofa, determined not to ruin things by raising the subject of Catherine Dawson again. Since the party, we’ve had several more conversations where I’ve had to use all my self-control not to beg him to resign and find another practice.

The phone rings just as Bake Off: The Professionals is starting. I can tell from the tension in Ross’s shoulders and the set of his mouth that it isn’t good news.

“Thank you for letting me know,” he says. “I’ll come as soon as I can.”

“What is it? What’s happened?”

“That was the manager from the Beeches.”

The Beeches is the nursing home where his father lives. “He hasn’t…?”

“No. But she says he’s deteriorating. I’ll book a flight for tomorrow.” He sighs. “I can do the round trip in a day.”

I stand up and start stacking the foil containers inside each other, clearing the mess on the coffee table. “I’ll come with you. Let’s see if we can book the tickets now.”

Ross gently prizes the containers out of my hands. “I should think flying to Aberdeen and back in one day is the very last thing you need to be doing right now.”

“But I want to. We could tell him about the baby. I know we agreed to keep it to ourselves for a while, but what if your dad doesn’t…”

Ross does a bitter little laugh. “I doubt it’ll even register with him. Honestly, Lizzie, you’re better off staying at home. You’ve built him up in your mind as this poor, tragic figure, but the reality couldn’t be more different. That’s why I’ve never taken you to see him. The difference between my dad and yours couldn’t be greater.” He shakes his head, sadly. “The truth is, and I hate to admit this, but I’m ashamed of him.”

I rest my hand on his sleeve. “I know you blame him for your mother’s death.”

He’s never actually admitted this, but I’ve guessed as much from some of the things he’s said in the past about the stress his dad’s behavior caused her.

“I don’t blame him for her death. But I’ve spent most of my life wishing he’d died instead of her.” He looks straight at me then. “I’ve shocked you now, haven’t I?”

“No. I understand.” At least, I’m trying to.

“Then you’ll understand that I need to go alone. I need to make my peace with him before he dies. I’ll go online and see if I can book an early flight.”

—

The next morning, Ross is gone before I wake up. I open my eyes and heave myself up onto my left elbow. I put my glasses on and look at the clock radio. Nine forty-three! I never sleep this late.