‘So what do you think? Would he manage … even if just for an hour or so? We could do lunch, somewhere near the flat … Aragosta, perhaps? They love Dad there.’

‘Which day?’ she asked, trying to focus her thoughts.

‘Saturday? Day after tomorrow. Short notice, I know. Her actual birthday’s next Thursday, but she’s seeing her family then.’

Romy didn’t answer immediately and she heard Leo’s voice, ‘Mum? Listen, say if you think it’s a bad idea, bringing Dad. We just thought he might enjoy getting out. Seems a bit mean to ask you and leave him behind.’

‘Yes …’

‘So shall I book for four?’

Romy didn’t know what to say, so she muttered, ‘That would be lovely,’ just so she could get her son off the phone. She wanted never to see Michael again. But she told herself she would do this last thing for Leo. She didn’t even bother to call goodbye as she left the flat, just laid her keys on the ledge in the hall, slammed the front door behind her and hurried to Victoria to catch the train home.

51

Leo was nervous. He wanted Lucy’s day to be perfect. But as they waited for his father to get ready, he had a bad feeling. His mother – who was meeting them at the restaurant – had seemed tense on the phone earlier, almost short with him. It was the way she’d snapped at him when he’d joked about his dad wearing his grey sweatpants to Aragosta that had unsettled him.

‘I don’t give a toss what your father wears,’ had been his mother’s terse response – almost as if she hated him.

‘I’ll just go and see how he’s getting on,’ he said to Lucy now, standing up from the sofa. ‘The car will be here in a minute.’

Leo found he was holding his breath until his father was safely seated in the corner table of the restaurant, being fussed over by the owner.

‘It is so good to see you, Mr Claire,’ Antonio gushed, endearingly ignoring the change in his dad or his obvious disability. ‘We have missed you and your lovely family.’

His father was making a huge effort, shaking the Italian’s hand warmly and sitting up straight, smiling in a way Leo hadn’t seen in a long while. ‘We’ve missed you too, Antonio.’

Just like old times, Leo said to himself cynically, knowing it was nothing like the occasions when he and Rex had come here as teenagers, their parents bright and energetic, chatting to each other and to them. It was as if someone had come along with a paintbrush and a jar of water and wiped the wet bristles across his mother and father until the colour ran and they faded to the jaded pair sitting opposite him now.