“I’m sorry. Can you repeat what you just said?”
“Christine had a daughter. He didn’t know about her. The mother is an old girlfriend of his, from university, who took it upon herself not to tell him. He had a daughter and she tracked me down and she really wants to meet you. She’s sixteen. Her name is Lily.”
“Lily?”
“Yes. I’ve spoken to her mother and she seems genuine. A woman called Miller. Tanya Miller.”
“I—I don’t remember her. But Christine did have an awful lot of girlfriends.”
Another long silence. When he spoke again his voice cracked slightly. “Christine had . . . a daughter?”
“Yes. Your granddaughter.”
“You—you really think she is his daughter?”
“I’ve met her mother, and heard what she had to say, and yes, I really think she is.”
“Oh. Oh, my.”
I could hear a voice in th
