was in the back seat, because she comes with me, because that is the school run.
The other half.
She had tried before.
On the Monday the sixth — the morning after she heard it — she said something in the car on the way to school.
She said: “Daddy was on his other phone again.”
And I said: “Don’t be silly, love. Daddy’s only got one phone.”
I lied to my eight-year-old about a thing I had photographed in my own utility room eight days earlier, and I did it because I did not want her anywhere near it, and I was proud of myself for it at the time.
And she took that correction and sat on what she had heard for a day and a half, and only brought it out in a car park when she thought we were about to drive back to the house.
