Wait!’ Pip sat up, scrabbling against the duvet. He hesitated at the threshold. ‘Love you, Dad,’ she said quietly, because she couldn’t remember the last time, and she was still alive.
A grin broke his face.
‘What do you want from me?’ he laughed. ‘My wallet’s in the other room.’
‘No, nothing,’ she said. ‘I was just saying.’
‘Ah, well, I’ll just say it too, then. Love you, pickle.’