Lily blew a smoke ring up into the sky, watching as it swelled, wavered and evaporated.

‘And you didn’t.’

‘I hated him.’ She looked sideways at me. ‘You can tell, you know, when someone’s just putting up with you. Even if you’re little. He never wanted me, only my mother. I can sort of understand it – who wants another man’s kid hanging around? So when she had the twins they sent me away to boarding-school. Bang. Job done.’

Her eyes had filled with tears and I wanted to reach out to her, but she had wrapped her arms around her knees and stared straight ahead. We sat there in silence for a few minutes, watching the traffic start to build below us as the sun slid further down the sky.

‘I found him, you know.’

I faced her.

‘Martin. When I was eleven. I heard my nanny telling another one that she wasn’t allowed to tell me he had called round. So I told her she had to tell me where he lived or I’d tell my mum she was stealing. I looked up the address and he lived about fifteen minutes’ walk from where we were. Pyecroft Road – do you know it?’

I shook my head. ‘Was he pleased to see you?’

She hesitated. ‘So happy. He nearly cried, actually. He said he’d missed me so much, and that it was awful being away from me and that I could come around whenever I wanted. But he had hooked up with someone else and they had a baby. And when you turn up at someone’s house and they have a baby and, like, a proper family of their own, you realize you’re not part of his family any more. You’re a leftover.’

‘I’m sure nobody thought –’

‘Yes, well. Anyway, he’s really lovely and all, but I’ve told him I can’t really see him. It’s too weird. And, you know, like I said to him, I’m not your real daughter. He still calls me all the time, though. Stupid, really.’ Lily shook her head furiously. We sat there for a while and then she looked up at the sky. ‘You know the thing that really bugs me?’

I waited.

‘She changed my name when she got married. My own name, and nobody ever even bothered to ask me.’ Her voice cracked a little. ‘I didn’t even want to be a Houghton-Miller.’

‘Oh, Lily.’

She wiped briskly at her face with the palm of her hand, as if embarrassed to be seen crying. She inhaled her cigarette, then ground it out on the grass and sniffed noisily. ‘Mind you, these days Penisfeatures and Mum argue all the time. I wouldn’t be surprised if they split up too. If that happens, no doubt we’ll all have to move house again and change names and nobody will be able to say anything because of her pain and her need to move forward emotionally or whatever. And in two years’ time there will be some other Fuckface and my brothers will be Houghton-Miller-Branson or Ozymandias or Toodlepip or whatever.’ She half laughed. ‘Luckily I’ll be long gone by then. Not that she’ll even notice.’

‘You really believe she thinks that little of you?’

Lily’s head swivelled round, and the look she gave me was far too wise for her age and utterly heartbreaking. ‘I think she loves me. But she loves herself more. Or how could she do what she does?’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Mr Traynor’s baby was born the following day. My phone rang at six thirty in the morning and, for a brief, awful moment, I thought something terrible had happened. But it was Mr Traynor, breathless and tearful, announcing, in slightly disbelieving, exclamatory tones, ‘It’s a girl! Eight pounds one ounce! And she’s absolutely perfect!’ He told me how beautiful she was, how like Will when he had been a baby, how I simply must come and see her, and then asked me to wake Lily, which I did, and watched her, sleepy and silent as he gave her the news that she had a … a … (they took a minute to work it out) an aunt!

‘Okay,’ she said finally. And then, having listened for a while: ‘Yeah … sure.’

She ended the call and handed the phone back to me. Her eyes met mine, then she turned in her crumpled T-shirt and went back to bed, closing the door firmly behind her.

The well-lubricated health-plan salesmen were, I estimated at ten forty-five, one round off being barred from their flight, and I was wondering whether to point this out when a familiar reflective jacket appeared at the bar.

‘No one in need of medical assistance here.’ I walked over to him slowly. ‘Yet, anyway.’

‘I never get tired of that outfit. I have no idea why.’

Sam climbed up on a stool and rested his elbows on the counter. ‘The wig is … interesting.’

I tugged at my Lurex skirt. ‘The creation of static electricity is my superpower. Would you like a coffee?’

‘Thanks. I can’t hang around, though.’ He checked his radio and put it back in his jacket pocket.

I made him an Americano, trying not to look as pleased as I felt to see him. ‘How did you know where I worked?’

‘We had a call-out at gate fourteen. Suspected heart attack. Jake reminded me you worked at the airport and, you know, you weren’t exactly hard to track down …’

The businessmen were briefly muted. Sam was the kind of man, I had noticed, who made other men go a bit quiet. ‘Donna’s sneaking a look in Duty Free. Handbags.’

‘I’m guessing you’ve seen your patient?’