“Who do you like best, Mother or Father?” Your question comes like a bolt out of the blue. I hold the jug of warm water suspended in midair and look at you. You are kneeling on the bathmat, shiny-skinned and rosy from the steam. The ends of your hair are wet and you have a towel draped round your shoulders. I am dazzled by the audacity of your question. Slowly I let the water from the jug pour into the bath.

“Mother.” I lean back into the warmth.

You consider my answer, squeezing the damp from your hair.

“I prefer Father.”

“Father?” I sit up quickly. “How can you possibly like Father best? He’s always so difficult to please.”

“At least he’s not vague.” You spin round and look at me directly. I sense that you are enjoying this discussion.

“But Mother is . . .” I search for my word. I think of the arch of her neck as she walks into a room, the way the atmosphere changes as she seats herself at table.

“Is what?” Your eyes are daring me now.

“Beautiful.” I say the word quietly.

“What does that count for?” You do nothing to hide your contempt. “Mother doesn’t know as much as Father, she doesn’t read as much. At least when Father settles on something you know he isn’t going to be called away.”

I want to rally, hit back, protest how self-centered Father is. I want to declare Mother’s goodness, proclaim her unstinting sense of duty, her ability to restore order when all is in disarray. Instead I stare in silence at the water. From the corner of my eye I can see that you are smiling.

“Well at least we needn’t fight about who we like.” Sure of your victory, your tone now is conciliatory. I get out of the bath and wrap myself in a towel. As so often happens, our argument has made me miserable. I press my forehead against the glass of the window and watch the branches of the trees make crisscross patterns against the sky. I do not like this sifting through our feelings, weighing Mother’s merits and Father’s faults as if the answer to our lives were a simple question of arithmetic. Not for the first time, I find myself fearing where your cleverness will lead.