He knew nobody had ever forced his ex-wife to do what didn’t suit her. But this time he was going to insist, not for himself, but for the little girl who pined for some sign that her mother remembered her.

‘Crystal?’ he snapped at last. ‘You were supposed to call.’

‘Caro,’ came the soft purr that had once sent shivers up his spine. ‘If you only knew how busy I am-’

‘Too busy for your daughter?’

‘My poor little Renata? How is she?’

‘Pining for her mother,’ he said furiously. ‘And now I’ve got you on the line you’re going to talk to her.’

‘But, sweetie, I’ve no time. You caught me on my way out, and please don’t call again-’

‘Never mind going out,’ he said. ‘Renata’s just outside and she can be here in a moment.’ He could hear the little girl’s footsteps running along the terrace.

‘I have to go,’ came Crystal’s voice. ‘Tell her I love her.’

‘I’m damned if I will. Tell her yourself. Crystal-Crystal?’

But she had gone, hanging up at the exact moment the child came running into the room.

‘Let me talk to Mamma,’ she cried, seizing the phone from him. ‘Mamma, Mamma.’

He saw the joy drain out of her face as she heard the dead tone. And, as he’d feared, the face she then turned on him was full of accusation.

‘Why didn’t you let me talk to her?’ she cried.

‘Darling, she was in a rush-it was a bad time for her-’

‘No, it was your fault. I heard you shouting at her. You don’t want her to talk to me.’

‘That isn’t true-’

He tried to take his daughter into his arms but she resisted him, not by struggling but by standing stiff, her face blank and unrevealing.

Just like me, he thought sadly, remembering the times in his life when he had concealed his innermost self in the same way. There was no doubt that this was truly his child, unlike Crystal’s second offspring, whose birth had precipitated the divorce.