Dad gets up and reaches for a pad on the counter. ‘Here. This is the only one I’ve got.’ He passes it across the table, and I see the familiar digits written in Dad’s scrawl.

‘That’s the same number she gave me. The one that doesn’t work anymore.’

My father turns and picks up the ancient house phone from the counter. He painstakingly presses the buttons and waits. Seconds later he replaces the receiver with a frown. ‘Hmm, you’re right, but I’m sure she’ll call once she gets a new phone.’

‘I hope so. It’s not great to think of her over there with no way for us to get in touch.’

‘Hang on.’ My father opens a kitchen drawer and roots through a multitude of junk before pulling out a scrap of grey cardboard that looks as though it was torn from a cereal carton. He hands it to me. ‘That’s the hostel where she’s staying.’

I examine the address on the card, written in dad’s handwriting. ‘Have you got a phone number for the place?’

He shrugs and shakes his head while I try to bring Google up on my phone before remembering that Dad doesn’t have broadband or any type of mobile signal here.

‘Okay, well at least it’s something to go on. I’ll go home and see if I can find a number for the hostel.’ I stand and gather up my wet coat and bag from the back of the chair next to me.

‘You’re not staying longer? I could make us a sandwich. I think I’ve got some ham in the fridge.’

I’m not sure if I want to stay for lunch. Usually we run out of things to talk about after five minutes. I look up at my dad’s expectant expression. At his baggy jogging bottoms and old navy fisherman’s jumper. At his two-day-old chin stubble and his bloodshot eyes. He’s only in his early fifties, but somehow looks much older. ‘I can stay if you like?’

He grimaces and slurps his tea. Maybe he sensed my hesitation. ‘Don’t worry. Second thoughts, you get off and find that number for your sister. I’ve got this engine to sort out.’

‘I can keep you company while you work.’

‘I work best when I’m on my own.’

‘Fine.’ I shrug on my coat and slip the piece of cardboard into my bag. ‘I’ll give you a ring if I—’

‘Yes, yes. See you soon, Zoe.’