Was I really just another person in his life to charm? I gulp down the lump in my throat, then hit the cross and close the photo. The next result is a newspaper report. There’s another photo of the two of them. It looks like they’re shouting at each other.

I don’t read the story, I can’t. Instead I try not to throw up over my keyboard (I’d never get the bits out) and flick down the screen with tunnel vision until I find her contact details.

It’s not that hard. Mum could have done it herself. It’s not like she’s not capable of using a laptop. Maybe she asked me because she wanted me to stumble across some of this crap; maybe she thinks I’m old enough now to know more, be able to handle the truth that is my parent.

‘Mum, I’ve found Serena’s details, but are you positive you want them?’

‘Of course, I do.’

‘Are you sure you couldn’t have got them yourself?’

‘You know you’re much quicker at finding things than I am. I bet it took you two seconds flat and I would have been messing for ages. My laptop is so slow as well these days, I think I need a new one.’

Should I tell her? Surely, it’s better to know? If she doesn’t already. ‘I found this photo in Rome.’

‘The cosy one? He always was very good at hankering to the press.’

‘And an online article in the Daily Mail.’

‘Ah that one, I heard about that, but I don’t bother looking these days. I know what your dad looks like, especially when he’s arguing. That journalist seems to be rather keen on featuring your father; does make me wonder if he’s had a bit of a thing with her. She seems angry, doesn’t she? Didn’t you think that? A woman scorned?’

‘I didn’t read it, Mum.’

‘Serena was a child prodigy, that’s why she gets the coverage.’ She sighs. ‘You’d really think he’d be a bit smarter about who he picks, wouldn’t you? Stupid, arrogant man.’

‘Why not ditch the anniversary party, Mum?’ Please I pray inside my head. Why not ditch him as well, I want to add.

‘No, trust me, Rosie, I need to throw this bash. Do you want to text me the details? Is that easier than reading it out? I want to make sure I’ve got it right.’

‘Yes, Mum.’ I sigh again. ‘Oh Mum, I hope you’re doing the right thing. I don’t want you to get hurt.’

‘I’ve already been hurt, Rosie. We both have and I’m sometimes worried it’s affected you more than me.’

‘Look, Mum, we’ve been through this. I’m fine.’ We blow kisses and exchange ‘love yous’ and I put my mobile down. One down, one to go.

This has put me off Noah and his ropes even more, if that is possible, for two reasons 1. is Noah, and 2. is ropes. I am worried that because of 2 I will end up clinging to 1, and that is not acceptable at all.