So he was taking my home away from me—what did it matter? Everything good that had happened here was gone. Let’s raze the house to the ground for all I care. Being forced to choose between staying in Ireland, trapped with him, or leaving Mum behind, made my chest tight. I didn’t want to think about it. Maybe one of the two dozen CVs I’d put into shops around town before the exams could turn into a job and then I could stuff Oxford and get my own place. Mum could come live with me. Both problems solved. I made a mental note to chase up those CVs with a phone call.

Dad wove around me to the door and flung his arms wide.

“Come in, m’lady,” he said, and I could hear the goofy smile even if I couldn’t see it. Beth took a tentative step over the threshold. When they hugged, I caught her eye. She looked away and broke off the hug immediately.

“This looks incredible, Rob.” She had medium-brown skin, curly hair, and an English accent, but not like Ruby’s. Ruby’s accent was cute and her words sounded bubbly and joyful falling off her tongue. Beth sounded like she might read the news on the BBC. She shook her coat off, revealing an emerald-green sleeveless dress that showed off her tattoos. I knew she was the same age as Dad—some information about her had slipped through in spite of my best efforts—but (though it pained me to admit it) she looked effortlessly cool in a way Dad could never pull off. He always looked like he was trying too hard. Or maybe that was just because I knew firsthand how much time he spent doing his hair.

Dad took her coat and handbag and laid them gently on the back of an armchair. She looked at me. This was usually the moment where I’d make an excuse and leave the house.

“I’m so glad we have this a chance to get to know each other,” she said. “Your dad talks about you all the time.”

“OK,” I said flatly.

Dad shot me a look. He was standing halfway between us, still twisting a napkin in his hands. I shrugged at him. What was I supposed to say to that? I’m familiar with your existence and I disapprove. Seemed rude even for me.

“Saoirse, why don’t you sit down. Beth, you can come help me in the kitchen.”

I bristled. Why should she help? She didn’t live here.

On the other hand, I didn’t want to be handing her dinner—the urge to dump it in her lap would be too great.