The enormity of the encounter certainly didn’t come into proper focus until Lucas turned into the cul-de-sac that housed their agreed meeting spot. Lucas spotted Moira’s father at once, parked with the rigidity of a statue by the gated entrance, arms folded across his burly chest, such a far cry from the jolly, avuncular man Lucas had in his mind that he stopped in his tracks. By then Charlie had noticed him, and there was no option but to plough on. It had started to drizzle too, giving the day the look of an old film.

‘Professor.’ The word was full of sneer and fired, an opening salvo, before Lucas had drawn near. He opened the gate and walked through it, leaving Lucas to follow.

‘Mr Giddings, I…’ Lucas felt his calf twang as he hurried to catch up. His throat was full of croak and he fumbled in his coat pocket for his pastilles, popping one in his mouth. ‘Thank you for this… all I want is to assure you that absolutely nothing—’

‘Now, you listen to me.’ Charlie Giddings spun round, jabbing his forefinger at the bridge of Lucas’s nose. He was so like her, Lucas saw suddenly, with the eyes strikingly wide set and the mouth with the upper lip protruding very slightly over the lower one. ‘Are you calling my daughter a liar?’ The eyes were the same shape too, and grey as slate.

‘I am certainly not trying to… deny… her truth…’ Lucas faltered, latching onto exactly the vocabulary he despised in a bid to try to rescue the conversation. ‘How I made Moira feel… I cannot…’

‘Do you have even the remotest idea…’ a speck of saliva landed on Lucas’s cheek ‘…of the courage it took that girl of mine to even go to that place of yours? How out of her depth she felt? How scared? Every night Julie and I had her on the phone, saying she wanted to come home—’

‘I am extremely saddened to hear that, but, Mr Giddings…’

‘We trusted you. We trusted you with her, our precious child. Make no mistake, if I can get you struck off, I will.’

A screeching crow burst out of a nearby tree, filling Lucas with foreboding as it flew away.

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