Her question was asked casually, but her body language was anything but. Every part of her seemed tenser than it had moments before, and I was sure I felt the atmosphere between us shift a little. Clio was looking away down the street, not focusing on me at all, and she pulled at each of her fingers in turn so the joints cracked. Rarely had I been asked such a staged question, but I had no idea where she was going with it. I decided to play along for the time being. No doubt it was another of her schemes and all would become clear in due course.

‘Almost all my life,’ I replied. ‘Mum had a caravan when I was first born, but then Dad bought her the house as a wedding present when they got married. I’ve lived here ever since. I can’t imagine ever living anywhere else.’

Clio’s cheeks lost a little of their colour beneath her carefully applied blusher and she didn’t say anything for a moment or two.

‘You rarely talk about your dad,’ she said when she spoke again. ‘I feel like I know all about your mum, but your dad is still a bit of a mystery.’

‘You’re probably right,’ I replied. ‘I’m not sure I ever forgave him for abandoning us. I mean, if he hadn’t left then I’m pretty sure Mum would never have . . . well, you know. But I’m happy to answer your questions. What do you want to know?’

Clio nodded and was quiet again. She took a bite of her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully.

‘What was he like?’ she asked eventually.

I fell silent for a moment as I pulled an image of Dad into my mind’s eye. It wasn’t something I’d done much over the years since he left, but recently I’d found him popping into my head more often, although I wasn’t sure why.

‘He was tall,’ I said. ‘Handsome, too, and always smiling. I never had any doubt that he loved me, would do anything for me . . . Right up until the day he walked out on us, that is,’ I added bitterly.

I stopped for a moment, gathering my thoughts. Clio just watched me, waiting for me to speak.

‘He was such a big personality, you know, he kind of filled a room on his own. And he was fun, always up for a laugh. I used to think that he tried extra hard when he came home because he wasn’t around all the time, but now I reckon he was just like that naturally. He’d do mad, impromptu things like driving off to see the lights at Blackpool on a moment’s notice, or having a picnic on the beach in the dark. It was exciting, you know, and that kind of made up for all the time he wasn’t here.’