He’d perfected his tone. Everything he said pulled its weight, did its part in assigning guilt. He would change his voice, line to line, to cover the full range of disappointment. Personal disappointment, as in: how dare she leave him, just because he’d had someone on the side. As if his brand of infidelity were owed some kind of dispensation. He worked so hard, stress blocked his judgement. The exculpatory lifestyle factors were endless. And then of course the additional hurt due to her political stance. He seemed deeply offended that his estranged wife had opinions that differed from his own. Writing them down, or expressing them in TV interviews was inexcusable.

It was tempting to respond with something sarcastic: a heartfelt apology for being famous. Maybe the protests would stop if people understood the harm of publicity: Tony having to see her on the news.

But she just said, ‘Yeah. I seem to be causing a bit of controversy.’ She crossed the room and stood in the open glass door and looked out at the pool. ‘I was supposed to be talking at Berkeley, but they cancelled on me. I guess their insurance premiums are getting too high.’

He didn’t answer.

She said, ‘Is Alex there?’

He said, ‘It must’ve struck you as a bit irresponsible though, right? Producing what’s basically a right-wing tract, and then flogging it around left-wing institutions? Did you not think it might cause some issues?’

She said, ‘Yeah, I tried to be as inflammatory as possible, in the hope that someone gets a huge damage bill.’

‘Great. I was pretty sure I had that right. How’s your father? Has he managed to speak to you yet?’

She turned and faced the room, worried she might throw the phone in the pool. ‘Is Alex there? I don’t have a lot of time.’

‘It’s sort of like your life’s theme, isn’t it? No time for anyone but yourself?’ Not his usual pedigree of insult.

She said, ‘No, my life’s theme is the eternal hope that I can call you and have an equable conversation.’

‘Well, shall we start with an apology?’

‘If you like: I’m listening.’

He laughed. ‘No, what I meant was: why don’t you acknowledge that your behaviour was far from ideal. I accept that you were hurt, but breaking up a family seems like a disproportionate response. And it’s especially sad, given we’ve incurred a security risk on your behalf.’

‘Oh, God. I wrote that book six years ago—’

‘Yeah, well beyond living memory, right? Actually, Chicago PD sends a car past most days, so there’s at least ten minutes a week when we’re completely safe. But maybe if you write another book exposing drug dealers, just give me plenty of warning so I can buy new deadbolts.’

Erin said, ‘Oh, I get it: you’re still an asshole.’

‘Excuse me?’