Beth put her hand to her chest and breathed in a few deep breaths.

“Oh my goodness,” she said, fanning herself, “that was scary. Oh, Rob, weren’t you saying you think you know Ruby’s dad?”

“Yes, my brother Vincey was friends with your dad—Mike, isn’t it?”

I looked at Beth, who was now happily munching on a soggy green bean like nothing had happened. I looked at the candlesticks. I looked at Beth again. She gave me a small smile.

“That’s my dad! I didn’t realize you knew him.” Ruby seemed delighted. If I met someone who said they knew my dad I’d probably apologize or run away.

“He’s a good man, Mike. What’s he up to these days?”

“Well, he works for the civil service, but I get the feeling he’d rather be a professional football commentator. He’s practicing really hard.”

Dad laughed. “That’s the dream.”

In a very mature fashion, I declined to point out that Dad often called soccer Gaelic football for wimps.

“What about your mum?” Beth chimed in.

“Oh, she isn’t working.” Ruby cleared her throat. She looked like she wanted to add something, but she didn’t.

“That’s lovely,” Dad said encouragingly, “always having your mum at home when you get back from school.”

Ruby nodded, but I noticed her smile was tight and she filled her mouth with wilted broccoli spears.

“Saoirse’s mum started working from home when she was wee so she could be around too. It’s nice for kids, I think, to have their mum at home.”

Oh God, this was it. My face got hot and I cut across Dad.

“Remember what we said, Dad,” I warned, but tried to keep my voice light.

“What’s controversial about that?” Dad said bewildered.

I faltered for a brief moment before it came to me.

“You’re being sexist!” I announced. He was being sexist, but I wouldn’t have bothered bringing it up; I only wanted to steer him away from talking about Mum.

“Am I?” he asked, looking to Beth for reassurance. Surprisingly she nodded and took my side.

“I mean, why did you say it’s nice for kids to have their mum at home and not, for example, ‘a parent’? If we had a kid do you think I’d stay home with it while you swan off to work?”

“Er . . . ,” Dad blustered. “No, I didn’t say that. It’s not like I think women should give up work and be chained to the dishwasher. I’m not a dinosaur.”

“Good, because I make more money than you.”

I snorted a laugh before I could stop myself. I felt weirdly proud of Beth for a second.

“That’s good with me. I’ll stay at home and eat bonbons and mind our imaginary baby,” Dad joked. He received stony glares in response.