‘Sorry, sweetie,’ Dad said, coming to stand by her side. ‘I haven’t had much of a chance to chat to you. This is for you, Darcy.’ He handed the other man a beer. ‘I’m so glad Rachel brought you along tonight.’

‘It’s great to be here,’ Darcy said.

Dad clinked his drink against Darcy’s. ‘So,’ he said, after taking a sip, ‘I understand you’re doing some work for Rachel?’

‘Yes,’ Darcy said. ‘I’m one of her delivery boys. Part of her conglomerate.’

Rachel restrained herself from jumping in to say that he’d actually run his own cafe and he’d just last week launched an Everything’s Better Toasted food truck, but she decided against it – partly because she didn’t want to apologise for Darcy, and partly because she knew Dad would have no issue with Darcy being ‘just a delivery man’. Dad was old-fashioned in some ways, but he wasn’t the type to get all ‘you’re not good enough for my daughter’. If Rachel liked him, that would be good enough for Dad. It was this kind of knowledge that made it so hard to reconcile herself to the idea that her dad was an abuser.

Over the past couple of months, she’d forced herself to consider the fact that she might have gone a little bit mad and created this idea that her dad was abusive from nothing. She’d vacillated between believing that yes, of course she’d only imagined it . . . and a little glimmer of fear that she’d been right all along. She’d also been forced to accept that, even after tracking down Fiona Arthur, she would probably never know what Mum’s money was for – if it was even for anything at all. If nothing else, she’d found out that Dad had been married before. Thanks for that little nugget, Mum.

There was a loud crash from the other end of the terrace, and they all looked over to see the two little boys’ heads next to an upturned table. Sonny put down his beer and started towards them.

‘I’ll go give Sonny a hand,’ Darcy said, placing his beer on a low table. He’d been playing with the boys earlier, while half-a-dozen women looked on, salivating. It was another feather to his cap that he was a natural with kids.

Rachel and Dad remained where they were. A moment of awkward silence passed between them. Rachel surveyed the people standing around them, but she felt Dad’s eyes on her.

‘He seems like a nice guy,’ Dad said finally. ‘It’s nice to see you with someone.’

‘It’s nice to be with someone,’ Rachel agreed, smiling at someone walking past.

‘He’s being good to you?’

She nodded, sipping her champagne.

‘It’s a good time for our family,’ Dad said. ‘There’s only one thing that would make it even better.’

Rachel looked at him at last. ‘And what’s that?’

‘If I could make things right with you.’ Dad’s voice shook just the tiniest bit. ‘I’m sorry things have been strained between us these past few months. I should have told you about Fiona. I wish I had.’