‘I’m happy with Plan B. It’s not ideal, but I would rather move back into the house and try to sell to a family than have those fucking leeches take my home. God knows what their eventual plans will be, but even the thought of them taking half the garden away is not something I want.’

‘But what if it takes years to sell the house, Nick? I can’t wait that long. I’ve got a year, tops, at the house in Eastbourne – if I don’t get some money in that time to help Richard and me to buy a house, or even rent a decent place, then I – and the boys – are basically homeless.’

‘Well, no, because the boys always have a place with me.’

‘So, you’d be happy to split us up?’

‘You seem happy to do that, why shouldn’t I?’ He glares at me, his cheeks flaming.

‘Christ, Nick. Really?’ I stand up and take my coffee to the kitchenette, pouring it down the sink. ‘This wasn’t a good idea.’ I slam the mug down. ‘We both need to move on, Nick. I know you’ve always had a problem with that—’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Your brother, your dad – they were awful things to happen to you as a child – you could never let them go, either.’

‘That’s such a stupid thing to say, Amber. It’s not the same at all.’

It is a bad comparison, I know this, and it’s nowhere even close to the conversation I’d planned before arriving here. It does open the door for conversation about Tim, though.

‘Maybe, maybe not. Have you ever considered your lack of answers about what happened to Tim is the root of your behaviour?’ I say, matter-of-factly.

‘My behaviour?’

‘Yes. When Tim went, you felt it was because he didn’t love you enough to stay. Then your dad died. You told me once it was at that point you began to believe you weren’t good enough. Not worthy. And you’ve pushed people away ever since. Completely immersed yourself in your job; drowning yourself in work. Then, bit by bit, you shut out your family because you were afraid you weren’t good enough for them, either. And maybe you believed they’d leave you, too. You were so busy worrying about it that you ended up causing it and adding insult to injury by leaning on someone else’s shoulder instead. And we know how that ended. Are you happy now you’ve proven your own theory by making it happen?’

‘No. No, I’m not happy at all.’

‘Self-destructive behaviour isn’t going to bring your dad back; it’s not going to get you answers to what happened to Tim, is it?’

‘Probably not.’ His head drops. He’s deflated.

I realise we are both crying now.