Bobby’s bedroom was curiously unrevealing. There were no pictures on the wall, or books, beyond a few school books. Alex flicked through one of these.

‘Good marks,’ he observed. ‘You’re working hard, then?’

Bobby nodded.

‘That’s good. Good.’ He was floundering. ‘Are you all right, son? All right here, I mean?’

‘Yes, it’s nice.’

‘Don’t you miss your old home?’

Bobby hunted for the right words. ‘Places don’t really matter.’

‘No. People matter. Right?’

‘Right.’

‘Well, I’m here now.’

‘Yes.’

Alex searched his face. ‘You are glad, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, of course I am.’

He would have doubted it if it hadn’t been for their memory of the earlier conversation. How could all that have gone?

Because now he knows it’s me.

‘Tomorrow’s a big day,’ he said cheerfully.

‘Yes.’

It was becoming a disaster. He had resolved to act on what he’d learned from Bobby that evening, and use it to make this visit a triumph. That was the secret of success-good intelligence and knowing how to use it. But all his gains were slipping away.

‘Daddy-’

‘What is it?’ His voice betrayed his eagerness.

‘Tomorrow, will you ask Mitzi about the school play? She was ever so good in it.’

The school play? The school play? His mind frantically tried to grapple with this. When had it been? Why hadn’t he known?

‘It was a pantomime-’ Bobby said, reading his face without trouble ‘-and Mitzi was an elf. She had two lines.’

‘Er-?’

‘It was last week. You were abroad.’

‘Of course-yes-otherwise I’d have-’

‘Yeah, sure. You will remember to ask her, won’t you?’

‘Of course I will. Goodnight, son.’

Corinne said her goodnights after him. As they passed in the corridor she said, ‘I’ve put you in that room at the end. Your things are in there.’

He looked in before going downstairs. It was a small, neat room with a narrow bed.