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“I met my bio dad.”

“You did? When?”

“About twelve years ago,” I admit. “Even my mum doesn’t know this. Like you, I didn’t want to hurt her, but I think maybe I should tell her.”

“I promise not to say anything,” Lottie says, grown up beyond her years.

But years of being surrounded by adults will do that.

“Thank you. But I think it’s time I told her, anyway.”

“So you met your dad?” Lottie prompts.

“I did. It was just after I made Woman of The Year. Dawson Technologies had taken off. I’d made my first million. I was an up-and-coming star, according to the newspapers.”

“So what happened?” Lottie asks, leaning forward slightly.

“My dad turned up at my offices,” I say. “I knew who he was. Mum told me when I was younger that they wanted different things. What she really meant was he didn’t want a child. He had plans, and they didn’t involve a child or baby-mummy cramping his life.”

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t want to make a scene, so I invited him into my office. I wanted to see what he had to say for himself. Part of me was inquisitive. And like you, I wanted to meet the man who helped create me.”

“You get it then?”

“I do. More than you know.”

I refuse to lie to her. But I hope my punchline will help her see. Finding out isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

“Why do I feel there’s abutcoming?” Lottie asks.

I smile sadly.

“What did your father say?” she presses.

“He introduced himself. Told me he read about me in the newspaper and was proud of me. Told me I had two younger brothers. He said he was a computer programmer, had gone out into the world and made something of himself, and that I must have got my skills from him.”

Lottie rolls her eyes, and I chuckle.

“My thoughts exactly,” I say. “Anyway, we drank coffee and ate some biscuits. Then I asked him why he’d never tried to contact me before.”

“What did he say?”

“He spluttered a lot.” I smile and raise an eyebrow at the memory. “He then told me he hadn’t been ready to have a child when mum had announced she was pregnant.”

Lottie’s mouth drops open. “What did you say?”

“I asked him whether he thought Mum had been ready to be a single parent.”

I pick up my coffee and take a sip.

“What did he say?” Lottie asks.

“He spluttered a lot more.”

“Have you seen him since?”

I shake my head and give her a small smile. “No.”