She moved up onto the second step, away from the kitchen sounds down the hall. Mummy and Grandma were cooking and talking, putting plates on the table. She gripped the receiver in both hands and moved her mouth close to the small, circular holes.

‘Hello,’ she said. It made the radio noise spin and whistle when she spoke. ‘Hello hello.’

‘Hello?’ The small voice came closer. ‘Who’s there?’

Isla moved to the far corner of the step with her back to the wall, her knees up tight to her chest. The noise in her ear crackled and then stopped. The quiet was listening to her. She sat very still.

‘Hello?’

She knew that voice. She sat up straight. ‘Daddy?’

‘Isla? Is that you?’

She smiled and nodded. In her ear she could hear his breaths. ‘I answered the phone,’ she said.

‘I’m glad you did. I nearly put it down. I thought there was nobody there.’

‘It was me.’

‘I’m glad it’s you. Very glad.’

Isla wound the flex around her arm and tried to think of something to say. ‘I’m at Grandma’s.’

‘I know.’ The phone started to hiss again and his words were quiet. ‘I miss you, Isla.’

She waited for the hiss to stop. In the kitchen her mum was telling Grandma something about hair. He cut his hair, she was saying. Cut it all off, like a soldier. Isla thought of Daddy’s soft skin and his hard bones.

‘You still there?’

She nodded and pulled the flex tighter. It left white, curling marks on her arm. ‘Are you still my dad?’

‘Of course.’ There was a pause. ‘Of course I’m your dad, love.’

‘Are you coming to get me?’

‘Oh, Isla.’ He was quiet for a long time, although the hiss had stopped. ‘I don’t think I can.’

Isla unwound the flex slowly from her arm. Her hand had puffed up pink and her arm was circled with curled indents.

‘I don’t like England,’ she said.

‘That makes two of us.’

‘Why do people want to live in England?’

‘That is a very good question. I have no idea.’

She ran her finger over the deepest indents, near her wrist, which were pleasingly ridged and slightly sore. From the kitchen she could smell sausages.

‘You ok?’

Isla nodded.

‘You’re not crying, are you?’

‘No,’ Isla said, although she thought she might.

‘Good girl.’

Grandma was calling her name from the kitchen. Her tea was ready, she was saying. Come and eat. Isla wasn’t sure she was hungry. She’d been hungry when the phone rang, looking forward to the sausages. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted, now.

‘I’d come and get you if I could,’ Daddy said. ‘Do you know that?’

Isla nodded again, because she did know this.

The kitchen door opened and Grandma was shouting up the hall. Isla stood and leaned around the bannister with the receiver behind her back. ‘Coming,’ she said.

Grandma didn’t move. She wanted her to come right away, please, because the food is on the table. Isla turned and carefully, quietly, put the receiver down in its cradle.