Sometimes it takes time to find the right words to tell somebody something that might be difficult for them to hear. And I’ve waited the whole of my life, so there’s no hurry now. My dad sighs. “She was on her way to the airport,” he says, “she was flying to Japan for a big series of concerts. She’d asked me to take her but Sebastian was so upset because he didn’t want Mummy to go away again I thought it would be better for everyone if she went in a taxi. I’d been begging and begging her not to go. She was to be away for three whole months, touring around, and I just couldn’t bear to be apart from her for that long again and you were so tiny, and…and…and I was so angry, I didn’t want to make it easy for her to go.” I squeeze his hand. “So she left with us shouting at each other and with Sebastian crying and you squawking for a feed. Then the next thing I knew, two police officers knocked at the door, came into the house, sat me down and started making me coffee.
