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‘No, he's not, but he was, did have one – well, a fling – and I just can't – just can't seem…’ But it was no good. I felt my face buckle as I dissolved again.

Caro swung me round to face her, both hands on my shoulders. ‘He had an affair? Ant?’ I could tell she was flabbergasted. Happily we heard the front door slam as Tim exited stage left. ‘But – but that is so unbelievable! He's just not the type! When? Recently?’

‘No,’ I looked up; managed to confine myself to some hiccupy shuddering. ‘No, years ago. Years and years ago, when we were engaged.’ I felt terribly calm suddenly, having said it. And flat. I sat back in my chair, wiped my face with my sleeve.

‘Oh!’ She sat back too. ‘You mean – not when you were married?’

‘I mean about a month after we got engaged.’

Her eyes roved back, rolling away the years, remembering. Recalling that time. She shrugged helplessly. ‘Oh, well, I suppose… I mean, an awful lot was going on then, and he was very young—’

‘Not that young, thirty.’

‘No, but so much had happened…’

She meant Neville. And it struck me that other people had wondered at us marrying so soon after, when I hadn't.

‘It was probably just a flash in the pan. A sort of desperate last sowing of wild oats, before settling down for good.’

‘It was. It was a one-night stand, with a barmaid.’

‘Oh, well, there you are! What are you getting so upset about? I mean, sure, it's a shame it happened a month after you got engaged, and not – I don't know – a couple of months before, and I can see that as far as you're concerned he's got a slightly blemished record, which is a shock and a shame, but that's all it is, Evie, a bit of a shame. You've got to see it in that context, not something to get worked up about all these years.’

‘Caro, there's a child.’

She stared at me. Her eyes grew huge. ‘A child?’

‘Yes.’

‘How d'you know?’

‘She wrote to us, the other day. Said she wanted to get to know her father.’

She caught her breath. ‘No!’

‘Yes!’ I wailed.

‘And he didn't know?’

‘Had no idea! Why should he? A quick roll in the hay, never sees the girl again – why would he?’

There was a highly charged silence as Caro digested this. The station clock ticked on remorselessly above the window. She didn't take her eyes off me. I watched them turn from horror to steel. Then: ‘How do we know it's true? I mean, some barmaid from – where?’

‘Sheffield.’

‘Sheffield! Who gets up the duff, having slept with God knows how many men—’

‘Exactly,’ I said quickly. ‘And sees Ant's picture on the back of his latest book.’

‘Is that how she—’

‘Yes! Well, no. I don't know, for sure, but you can imagine—’

‘Of course you can!’ she agreed emphatically. ‘God, you can just see it, can't you? A single mother and her daughter, scheming together, writing to him, some – some Sharon—’

‘Stacey.’

‘Stacey! Eh up, Stacey lass, let's see if we can't get soom brass outa him.’

‘You think?’ I said anxiously, loving her.

‘Oh, for sure! Oh, this has scam written all over it, Evie. I mean, why wait till now? Why not earlier? Ten years ago?’

‘Because she's sixteen now,’ I said, playing devil's advocate. ‘She wanted to wait.’

Caro made a sceptical face. ‘So she says. But it's a bit of a coincidence, isn't it? The Byron book's been out a year – the paperback's just come out.’

‘The letter arrived a week after the paperback was launched,’ I said quickly.

‘You see! And it was all over the place. In the supermarkets even, with Ant's photo on the back—’

‘Tesco's—’

‘Tesco's!’

‘Asda—’

‘Asda! And she – the mother – pops her Turkey Twizzlers in her basket and thinks, I know that face… blimey. He must be worth a bob or two.’ Caro was pink with zeal, fired up.

‘Yes, I know, that's what I thought. But, Caro,’ I struggled with the bald facts, ‘Ant doesn't see it like that. He thinks it could be true, that she could be his, and if she is, well then, he wants to do the right thing. Wants to acknowledge her.’

Caro's mouth contracted like a cat's bottom. ‘What, bring her into the family?’ she squeaked.

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