With the phone in my hand, I lift my feet up on to the sofa and prepare to download my misery on Donna when the hall door opens. Gosh that was quick. But instead of Tom, Amber walks into the room. The poor kid looks confused.

‘Do you want something to eat, Amber?’

Removing her jacket, she tosses it on the sofa. ‘Erm, maybe a cheese toastie?’

‘I think I’ll have one myself.’

‘Is Dad back?’

‘He’ll be here shortly, he’s in the pub watching the match.’

‘Oh.’ Even Amber finds that a bit much.

She follows me into the kitchen. Maybe she’ll talk to me now. Tell me how she’s really feeling about what’s going on without the usual smartass answers. To my surprise she must have been thinking the same.

‘Are you okay, Ma? Like… you must be in shock with all that’s going on.’

My heart lifts, my little girl is concerned about me.

‘I’m more worried about you, Amber,’ I say, opening the press and taking out a few slices of bread. ‘How do you feel about it, having a half-brother you knew nothing about until this morning?’

Amber doesn’t answer at first, opening the fridge door she takes out the cheese slices. ‘Well… actually…’ But before she can finish her sentence the front door opens and in walks Tom. The smell of beer arrives into the kitchen alongside him. He walks over to Amber and kisses her on the head. ‘Da, the smell off you’ – she pushes him away – ‘you’re pissed.’

‘I’m not pissed, Amber, I just had a few pints with the lads.’ Tom sounds like he used to when I first met him, ‘a few with the lads’. This man is going backwards. I’m raging that he walked in on us just as Amber was about to express her emotions to me. With his swaying body dominating the room I feel anger rising inside me. Why is he the one who gets to go out and forget about it all with the lads? This mess is his fault and here he is carrying on as if he’s a victim, feeling sorry for himself.

‘What did the police want?’ he slurs.

‘They wanted to know who was at the party.’ The smell from his breath makes me want to throw up.

‘Why did they want to know that?’

‘I don’t fucking know. Why weren’t you here? You could have asked them yourself.’ Don’t lose it, Sal, not in front of Amber.

With the bread in the toaster I tell Amber to pull the plug when it’s done and walk out of the room. There’s no way I’m going to have this conversation or confront Tom over the date on the DNA result, when he’s half cut.

Chapter Twenty-Five