She gave him a smacking kiss, which he returned. Then it was time to face his son.

Bobby was strangely pale. ‘Hello, Daddy,’ he said.

‘Hello, son.’

To his dismay, Bobby held out his hand politely, almost as though meeting a stranger. Or a ghost.

‘Hello, Daddy.’

Then he broke suddenly, as belief came rushing through, and flung himself against his father, burying his face against him.

Alex’s arms closed protectively about his son as he felt the storm of emotion go through the child. He didn’t know what to do except stay as he was, trying to understand but feeling helpless.

Looking up, he found Corinne’s eyes on him. Her expression was gentle but he had the feeling that she was conveying a warning.

Bobby drew back to look at his father. His face bore the marks of tears, which he rubbed aside hastily. Alex brushed some of them away with his own fingertips.

‘It’s all right, son,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m home.’

Bobby sniffed. ‘Hello, Daddy.’

‘Hey, is that any way to greet your old man? Crying? Shall I go away again?’

It was a feeble joke and a badly misjudged one. Bobby clung to him, his eyes full of sudden dread, and Alex drew in his breath. He was floundering badly.

‘You’re not getting rid of me that easily,’ he backtracked, saying anything that came into his head. ‘I’m here now and I’m staying. You’ve got me for Christmas, whether you like it or not.’

Mitzi began hopping about, yelling, ‘Yippee, Yippee!’ Bobby, the thoughtful one, smiled.

‘Come on, kids,’ said Corinne. ‘Let Daddy come in and get his breath back.’

Alex straightened up and kissed her cheek. Corinne did the same, smiling to present a show of cordiality for the children.

‘You said you weren’t coming until tomorrow,’ Mitzi reminded him.

‘Well, I got away early and thought it would be nice to see a bit more of you.’ He tweaked her hair. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’