Amber yawns, pulls at her hair then turns herself back to face me. ‘I’m tired.’

I pull the duvet up around her neck. ‘Sure they’ll find out soon, Amber, they’ll do DNA tests.’ She moves position and pulls her arms out over the duvet. Suddenly I realize Amber spoke to this woman so what else does she know? I don’t want to push her to talk. The social worker who phoned – didn’t call to the house, Sunday, overtime restrictions – told me not to hound her for answers, that she’ll talk herself when she’s ready.

But Saoirse O’Neill doesn’t know Amber Cooper like I do. There’s a risk she’ll have moved on in a couple of days. Have lost interest, tell me to mind my own business. She’s already begun to refill her tank with attitude. I can hear it creeping back into her comments.

‘What else did she tell you?’

‘She told me she got pregnant and her mother went mental. She’d been in trouble with drugs already and her ma had wanted her to go to America to live with the mother’s brother. Joyce’s uncle. Joyce didn’t want to go but when she gave birth to a dead baby… that’s what they told her, that the baby was dead. Imagine that, Ma, telling someone their baby is dead.’

Amber believes this woman and she’s not usually one for getting people wrong.

‘So she went to America.’

‘Yes and stayed there. Then, two years ago she found a picture of her sister on some social media page. She had a boy with her. He was being presented with a trophy for some under fourteen’s football game… Joyce did the sums.’

Holy fuck; I’m trying to act calm here but my heart has stopped.

The dim glow of Amber’s bedside lamp is casting a warm shadow across her face. The room feels cosy. The story is anything but.

‘And?’

‘She got the address and sent him stuff, all the time, she said, but when she heard nothing back from her sister, she located Kenny’s Facebook page and that’s how she contacted him… and she told him about Da being his father. Can I go asleep now, Ma?’

‘Yes, love, of course.’ I lean over and kiss her on the forehead. ‘Sweet dreams, baby. I love you.’

She smiles, wrapping the duvet tighter. ‘I love you too.’

Good God, what happened? I try to act like Amber’s story didn’t shock me. I hope she doesn’t see my hand shaking. I’m about to walk out the door when I remember Charlie, the girl who showed me the photo.

‘Just one thing.’

She turns around to face me. ‘What, Ma? I’m knackered.’

‘Do you know if Kenny has a girlfriend, someone called Charlie?’

‘What?’ Amber jerks up into a sitting position. ‘Charlie?’

‘Yes.’