‘Is that what really worries you, Dad? Incontinence? There’s no shame in that if you’re sick! You changed me when I was a baby, didn’t you? Everybody was amazed. They all still talk about it. Leo changing nappies!’

He smiled at the memory, softening, and then his face clouded. ‘It’s a bit different though,’ he said. ‘Changing the nappy of a baby and changing the nappy of some old git who can’t control himself.’

‘You know what I think?’

‘I think you’re about to tell me, Tara.’

‘I think it’s the other side effect that really frightens you.’

He turned his head away, a cloud passing across his face. He didn’t want to talk to me about sex.

‘Those days are long gone,’ he said.

‘I just want you to live as long as possible.’

He grinned, cheering up. ‘Me too!’

We were silent, finally agreeing on something. It was time to play my ace card.

‘I’ve got some news.’

He brightened some more. ‘Your business is picking up?’

‘Not really. It’s been better. But this is not about work. It’s about me and Christian.’ Dramatic pause. He was no longer pretending to read. ‘We’re trying for a baby, Dad.’

No reaction. I shook his hands, wanting him to see how great it was going to be, how much fun he would have over the next twenty years if he chose surgery, chose life.

He just stared at me blankly.

‘A sister or brother for Marlon!’ I said. ‘Don’t you want to watch them grow up? I know how much you love Marlon. And I know how much Marlon loves you.’

But my dad’s face settled into the mildly disappointed folds that I remembered so well. It was the look he got on the many occasions when I rashly bought the wrong ticket. When I stayed out all night, when I got a crush on the wrong boy, when all the fun left me sick the next day, when I got engaged to the wrong man, when I didn’t think about my business overheads. My father was about to give me the benefit of his hard-earned wisdom.

‘Bad idea,’ he said.

I was shocked. ‘How can a beautiful baby ever be a bad idea?’

‘Because a beautiful baby can’t mend a marriage, Tara. Married couples who are having problems – they put too much weight on some poor unborn child. I’m sorry – I’m being honest now, Tara.’

‘Oh, are we being honest now?’

‘It’s a bit late for anything else, don’t you reckon?’

I looked back at the nurses’ station. It was empty. The young junkie in the other bed had slipped into some chemically enhanced sleep. My father and I were alone at last.

‘Then please be honest with me now – and tell me why are you doing this, Daddy?’

‘Doing what?’

‘What you’ve been doing since you turned up at the police station with that nailing hammer. What you did in court. What you’re doing now. Taking the blame for someone else,’ I said. ‘Pretending.’