During the drive back to the Museum, Hardy didn't put on the radio and didn't say a word, knowing instinctively that Tom wouldn't, either. The kid was staring out the window, tears still running down his cheeks and he occasionally wiped the snot from his nose with this jacket's sleeve.

It was not even eleven; the talk hadn't taken more than half an hour. Maybe, if she had started at six as she'd planned, Miller would already be in Liverpool. She had Daisy's number, so they both might be inside the Museum. As he parked, Hardy took a look around but didn't recognize Miller's car among all the others. Since it wasn't orange, that didn't mean she wasn't here, though.

"You want to go inside? Or wait in the car?"

Tom shrugged. He looked tired, emotionally drained. Hardy left him in the car and went to find his daughter and Miller, texting quickly as he walked. Before he'd even reached the entrance, Daisy had replied. 'shes here, driving me bonkers. she always that chatty?'

It made him smile. Before he could reply and tell Daisy to send Miller out, the door opened and his orange-clad …well, friend, really, hurried out. "Where is he, is he alright? Tell me he's okay! Did anything happen, did that bastard touch him, did he do anything to him-"

"Ho, Miller, calm down." Before she could gnarl him to death for telling her to calm down, he hurried on to cover up his blunder. "He's in the car, nothing happened to him. Joe didn't touch him." Hardy didn't think telling her about the hug would make things better, so he lied. "They talked, that's all."

"Well, if that's all then why do you look like walking dread!" But she forced herself down and took a deep breath.

If she thought he looked like shite, she should better stay away from a mirror. There were dark bags underneath her eyes betraying her worry and lack of sleep. Her hair was a mess, likely hadn't seen a comb today, or yesterday or longer – he wouldn't judge, and he noticed she wore her jumper inside-out. Wouldn't tell her that, though. He valued his life too much for that.

"I would have preferred a better weekend, that's all. He's all yours, you can get him back home and I'll try to spend some time with my own child for a bit, if you don't mind."

Miller bit her lip and looked towards the car-park, as if staring hard enough would bring Tom right to her without delay. Hardy was not sure what was keeping her here still, but she seemed reluctant to go.

He groaned. "He won't stay with Joe and I doubt he'll do so in the near future. Now go away. I still have half a day left before I need to get back, and I intend to do something nice now." Following his own advice, he turned and pulled open the door to the Museum. As he stepped inside, he turned back once more. "And Miller?" She looked at him. "You have a really good boy."

With that, he left her and went to find his daughter, who was probably in the natural history section if she hadn't changed too much during the few years he had been out of her daily life. Maybe looking at dinosaurs would be just the thing for him. Life tended to look less insurmountable in front of a Tyrannosaurus.

O

Daisy had indeed been in the natural history section. "Did you know into what dinosaurs evolved? They didn't all die out."

"I know." He did. If you had a kid like Daisy who was mad about animals in all sizes, shapes and leg-numbers, it was hard not to. "There's snakes and lizards and … crocodiles and those fish-things with legs, right?" Hadn't he seen it on one of those documentaries once?

"Yeah, but those are really more or less living fossils. That means they used to live like they are now back in the Jurassic and Cretaceous and such. But birds! Birds are the real winner of evolution! Well… them and mammals, I guess. And insects. But they kinda just got smaller. Birds though used to be those huge sauropods and now they fly around here and everyone kinda loves them. They're awesome! The chicken we eat was once something like this," Daisy pointed at the dinosaur's skeleton next to them, a long-necked, smallish… thing. "That's so cool. I always love seeing stuff like that. All the way nature re-invents itself by wiping out things it doesn't find fit for survival. Do you think one day, humans are going to be wiped out?"

"The way things are going right now, it will be sooner rather than later," Hardy grouched and earned a punch to the shoulder.

"Way to be gloomy, Dad. But really… do you think that?"

He looked down at her pensive face and couldn't help but smile. "If so, I just hope we'll get a bit more time. I quite like it here, and I'd like to see you grow up and be fantastic." She blushed. Oh, but she would be. So fantastic, wherever she would go.

His phone beeped and he groaned. One day. One bloody day without that thing chirping at him! Was that too much to ask?

"Do you have to answer it?"

He gritted his teeth. "At least need to see who it is." It was a text from his sister, and he gladly put the damned thing away. "Not important. You want some ice-cream?"

"Dad. It's November!"

"What? They don't have ice-cream in November? What stupid rule is that?" Daisy giggled but ultimately decided to forgo ice-cream in favour of fish and chips down by the harbour. Luckily, it was the touristic harbour, far away from the gritty reality of the port. They wandered about with their greasy food – she'd badgered him into getting his own portion, despite knowing he wouldn't eat it even half – and fought off the hungry gulls that were following them around.

One of the flying pests swooped down and stole his fish and Daisy laughed until her own chips spilled out on the ground, at which point the rest of the birds came screaming and cawing and the owner of the chippy cursed them for feeding the bloody things.

It was a perfect day, and Hardy didn't want it to end.