‘I have a feeling that I want to change my life.’

‘What do you mean by that? Get rid of Bridget? Stop writing? Sell the flat? What?’

‘Yes,’ I said. We stared at each other. Then I thought again. ‘Actually, I don’t think I want to stop writing.’

‘What’s brought this on?’

I told him about Damian’s request and how I had fared so far. He thought for a moment. ‘I quite liked him at the time, until you had your falling-out.’ He paused, but I had no comment to make. ‘Even so, I’m rather surprised to find he left such a mark on all those lives.’

‘Far be it from me to defend him after what he put me through, but he is the only member of that gang who went on to be one of the most successful men of his generation.’

‘Yes, you’re right. Of course that’s right. I wasn’t thinking.’ My father spoke as one who feels himself justly corrected. ‘So, what is it?’

‘I’m not completely clear in my own head, but I believe I’m finding it depressing to be obliged to compare what we all thought was coming when we were young with what actually arrived.’

My father nodded. ‘To quote Nanny, comparisons are odious.’

‘They are also pointless, but that doesn’t prevent one from making them.’ For some reason, I felt it was important that he understood me. ‘It’s more than that. I’m not sure what we’re all doing with our lives. Damian may have made his mark, but none of the rest of us has.’

‘Not everyone can be a world-famous billionaire.’

‘Nor should they be, but everyone needs to feel they’re part of something worthwhile. That, in the last analysis, their life has some meaning in a larger context. The question is what am I part of? What have I done?’

But he couldn’t take this very seriously. ‘Don’t you think people have been asking themselves that since Chaucer first sharpened his pencil?’

‘I think there have been times when the majority felt they belonged to a culture that was working, that they had an identity within a worthwhile whole. “I am a Roman Citizen,” “God Bless America,” “The man who is born an Englishman has drawn a winning ticket in the lottery of life.” All that. People have felt their own civilisation was valuable and that they were lucky to belong to it. I’m fairly sure I believed that too, or something like it, forty years ago.’

‘You were young forty years ago.’ He smiled. Clearly, he was not very worried by my soul-searching. ‘So what are you asking? Do you want to sell the flat? If so, then that’s what you must do.’

In a way I could have left then as, if I’m honest, I had really gone down there seeking his permission to do this very thing. I was taken unawares by his swift and open reaction to my complaints, as I had assumed it was all going to take much longer to get his agreement. Because I should be clear, this response on his part was very generous, more generous than an outsider can perhaps immediately appreciate. As I have said, my mother was the one who insisted on their giving me the London flat, thereby cutting down their capital by quite a chunk. He’d resisted it for a time, because he saw their standard of living would suffer, which it did, but he eventually surrendered to her pleading. Now, here I was, proposing to cash in my chips, to pocket the boodle, to take the money and run, and he wanted to make it clear that he did not mind in the least. Some months later I would learn that he’d already known he was much more ill than he had let on and that death could not be long distant, so I suppose he wanted us to be in step at the end, but to me that thought only makes his kindness more moving. ‘That’s so fantastically nice of you,’ I said.

‘Nonsense, nonsense.’ He shook his head at the very notion. Now, what about some more coffee?’

Of course, his instinctive desire to downplay the moment was precisely what made it so poignant. Like too many of his type, my father had an absolute inability to express the love that motivated him, being always far too English to demonstrate his feelings. Even when we were little he hated kissing us goodnight and was visibly thrilled when the custom was allowed to lapse in our early teens. But there was nevertheless a silent unspoken affection in his words at this moment that makes my eyes fill now, months later, when I remember them. ‘I don’t want you to think it was wrong to give it to me when you did,’ I said. ‘It provided me with the perfect base, with a fantastic start. I was, and am, incredibly grateful.’

‘I know. But because something was right for you then, doesn’t mean it’s right for you now. If you want to sell it you must sell it.’

‘Thank you.’

‘And the girl? Isn’t it working?’

I couldn’t help thinking, disloyally, that Bridget would be ecstatic to hear herself referred to as ‘the girl,’ however politically incorrect that might sound. She was very good-looking and had the kind of looks that would last, but she was no spring chicken, if not quite yet an old boiler. I wasn’t sure how to answer him. ‘It’s not that, exactly. It works as well as it ever did.’

‘But?’

‘My problem is that during my searches I’ve been reminded of what it feels like to be in love. I think I’d forgotten.’

‘Again, you are remembering what it feels like to be young and in love. Love at nearly sixty, whatever sentimental American films may try to tell you, ain’t the same.’

‘Maybe not. But I’m fairly sure it’s more than I’ve got now.’

‘Then of course you must move on.’ He nodded slowly. ‘Tell me, do you ever see Serena Gresham in your travels?’

The question came flying out of the blue and almost winded me. On this day my dear old father was full of surprises. Could he really remember Serena? Why would he know what I had felt about her? Unless he’d had some kind of personality transplant? We hadn’t mentioned her name in thirty years at least and anyway I would never have given him credit for taking enough interest in my life to notice my romantic sufferings. ‘No. At least, barely. Sometimes. At the odd thing in London. That’s all.’

‘She married, didn’t she?’

‘Yes.’

‘And that was satisfactory?’

‘I don’t see enough of her to have an opinion. She’s got two grown-up children and she’s still with him.’

He considered my limp reply for a second. ‘I’m not convinced you would have been happy, you know.’

This sort of thing is hard to take at any age from any parent, but it came so closely upon one of the kindest gestures he’d ever made that I didn’t want to snap. ‘I just wish I’d had the chance to find out’ was all I said.

‘You could never have been a writer. You’d have ended up in the City. To make the kind of money it would have taken to keep her.’

‘Not necessarily.’ At this he gave a little snort. As always with a father, the assumption of superior knowledge, particularly where it concerned people I had been close to and he barely knew, was infuriating. But again, after the earlier exchange I didn’t want a fight. ‘Plenty of people nowadays live completely differently from the way they were brought up. You do for a start.’

‘Maybe. But my generation wasn’t given the option and, believe me, old habits die hard. I should know.’ He saw I was struggling not to join battle on Serena’s behalf and relented. ‘I don’t mean I didn’t like her, but I just never thought you were suited. For what it’s worth.’

‘Yes. Well.’ I spoke and was silent.

An awkwardness had entered the proceedings. My father was suddenly uncomfortably aware that he had ventured into alien, possibly even hurtful, territory. He smiled jocularly to get things back to normal. ‘Well, I hope I’m still around to meet the new girl, when she turns up.’

‘So do I,’ I said and I meant it. I’m very sorry that he won’t be.

We spent the rest of the afternoon discussing his will, which I was now allowed to read. He had, as he said, left his home to my sister and the remainder of his capital was divided between my niece, my two nephews and myself. This wasn’t quite fair, in my opinion, since for these purposes Louise and her children should have weighed as one person, but he telephoned his lawyer while I was there and dictated a codicil that gave me the entire contents of the house, so I didn’t like to cavil. Then it was done. His requests for the church services seemed gentlemanly. In fact, it was all pretty modest, more of a decorous whimper than a bang.