Dan sat in his mother’s car and waited for the taxi to pull into the driveway. He had been sitting there for two hours. His legs were cramped and his back ached, but he refused to leave.

Since he’d heard Yolanda talking to Stella about Lyssa in Paris, he’d been determined to do this.

‘Lyssa’s parents have pretty much disowned her,’ Yolanda had said on the phone. ‘I know she’s worried about getting work in Paris and, frankly, so am I, but I haven’t let her see that. I don’t understand why they don’t see how gorgeous she is, but if she doesn’t get an offer, this trip will be wasted and she’ll have nothing.’

Now Dan sat in the car waiting for Lyssa’s father to come home. He might not be able to get her back, but he wanted her to have her family.

He moved in the seat, the pins and needles in his leg causing him to wince. The lights of a taxi flashed in his eyes as it pulled into Lyssa’s driveway. Her father got out and walked towards the front door, and Dan jumped from his car.

‘Mr Massri,’ he said as he walked up the path, his hands sweaty and his heart pounding.

‘Yes?’ Lyssa’s dad turned to Dan, holding a small Tupperware container in his hand.

‘I’m Dan Harrison. I’m a friend of Lyssa’s,’ he said carefully.

Lyssa’s dad looked Dan up and down, taking in his jeans and sneakers, his blue shirt and the car keys in hand. ‘I know who you are. What do you want?’ he asked.

‘I want to talk to you about Lyssa.’

‘Did she send you?’ asked Lyssa’s dad as he opened the door.

‘No, she doesn’t know I’m here,’ Dan said as Lyssa’s father walked through the door. The house was dark inside.

‘I have nothing to say to you or to her,’ said Lyssa’s dad, and he shut the door in Dan’s face.

Dan knocked on the door again and called through the letter slot. ‘I’m gonna sit here until you talk to me. I will follow you in your taxi all day if I have to, and I will be here every night until you do. I have nothing else to do. Trust me, I can be very annoying.’

Dan sat on the front steps, took out a cigarette and lit it. He heard movement and saw lights going on and off inside the house.

He had smoked three cigarettes and played nine games of Tetris when the front door finally opened.

‘You shouldn’t smoke. It’s bad for you,’ said Lyssa’s dad.

‘I shouldn’t do a lot of things that are bad for me, but I do – that’s my problem,’ Dan said, not turning around.

‘I don’t want my neighbours to see you standing on my doorstep all night, smoking. You can come in, say what you have to say, then leave.’

Dan stood up, following him inside his house. Dan took in the lopsided silver Christmas tree, the sparse furnishings and the religious icons by the door. The difference between the world he knew and the one Lyssa knew was so apparent in small details: the television was ancient and the furniture was simple, but there was an obvious pride in cleanliness. Everything was in order, newspapers were folded neatly and fresh ironing hung on the backs of chairs in the kitchen.

Lyssa’s father gestured for Dan to sit down. ‘What do you know of Lyssa?’ he asked.

‘I know she modelled to help her family,’ said Dan quietly.

Sam rubbed his head. ‘My wife and my son, they miss her.’

‘And you?’ asked Dan. ‘Do you miss her?’

He didn’t answer the question. ‘She doesn’t think I can provide for this family, so she went and made her own money, looking like that.’ He found the Domotille catalogue on the table and threw it at Dan.

‘I work at Lyssa’s modelling agency,’ said Dan. ‘Actually, my mother owns the agency, and she can vouch for how professional these shots are.’ Dan looked at the pictures of Lyssa and felt his heart break a little more. ‘They are nothing to be ashamed of. Lyssa is an excellent model. And these clothes are very expensive and well regarded,’ Dan continued. ‘She looks … well, beautiful.’

‘I do not need you to tell me that my daughter is beautiful. I know very well she is beautiful,’ said Lyssa’s father angrily. ‘But she is also very good at her studies. She should be at university, becoming a doctor. But thanks to you and your mother, she is on billboards around the city. She is throwing away her education and the opportunities I have given her in this country. Who will take her seriously after she has done this?’

Dan was about to reply when he heard a key in the door. He looked up to see Andre, and a woman who had to be Lyssa’s mother. He stood to greet them.

‘Hello, Mrs Massri. I’m Dan Harrison, a friend of Lyssa’s,’ he said politely. ‘Hey, Andre.’

Andre looked at him and then walked away up the hallway.

Lyssa’s mother looked at Dan and narrowed her eyes. ‘Nice to meet you, Dan,’ she said in heavily accented English.

Dan sat down again, and Lyssa’s mother sat in the chair opposite him. ‘Do you know where she is?’ she asked, not looking at her husband.

‘She’s in Paris,’ Dan replied, looking the woman in the eye. She had a directness that reminded him of Lyssa, and he liked it.

Her face didn’t register surprise. ‘What’s she doing there?’

‘She’s modelling,’ Dan said.

Andre came back into the room holding the books Dan had given him. He sat next to Dan.

‘You still got those books? Good on you.’ Dan smiled at Andre, who looked him in the eye.

‘Have you met Andre before?’ Lyssa’s mother raised an eyebrow at Dan. ‘How exactly do you know my daughter?’

‘He works at the modelling agency,’ cut in Lyssa’s father. ‘He says his mother owns the agency. But I have seen him with Lyssa before. I have seen her getting into his car.’

If Lyssa’s mother was shocked, she didn’t let it show. She continued to ignore her husband. ‘Lyssa gave us some money,’ she said, and Dan noticed the way Lyssa’s dad looked at the floor. ‘Do you know anything about it?’

‘Yes. She took the work because she wanted to help Andre and you both,’ Dan said, looking at Lyssa’s father.

Lyssa’s mum nodded and held her head high. ‘Then we should use it. She worked hard for it.’ There was a certain pride in her voice.

Lyssa’s father turned to his wife. ‘You cannot just decide to do that.’

Her eyes flashed and she let fly a torrent of French: ‘I have not seen my daughter for a month. You won’t let me answer the phone or speak to her, and the money she’s blessed us with is just sitting there.’ She shook her head. ‘You aren’t always right about everything. Don’t stop yourself and your daughter from being happy just because you want to be right. Lyssa is a kind girl and she did this to help us. ’

Dan cleared his throat. He had no idea what Lyssa’s mum was saying to her dad, but there was one more thing he needed to tell her. ‘Mrs Massri, there’s something else I wanted to say.’

She crossed her arms, but nodded for Dan to continue.

‘I saw the dress you made Lyssa for her birthday. My mum saw it too, and she showed it to Domotille Hargraves, the woman who owns the label that Lyssa modelled for.’

Her eyes widened.

‘Domotille said it was wonderful stitching, and asked if you might want to go and see her for a job, if you like. Or not…’ His voice trailed off nervously.

Lyssa’s mum’s face flushed with pride. ‘That is very nice of you and your mother, but I am afraid I have Andre. He cannot be left alone. But thank you for the thought.’

Dan couldn’t let it go, though, and he spoke quickly. ‘We can get help for Andre, if you like. And I don’t mind looking after him for the day,’ he said, shrugging.

Lyssa’s dad and mum stared at him.

‘I know he likes trains and Smarties and can do these books.’

He took one from Andre and opened it up, showing them.

‘See? He loves the puzzles,’ Dan said, flipping through the pages that Andre had done.

‘He did that?’ Lyssa’s dad asked slowly, seeming to forget his anger.

‘Yeah, the day we did the first shoot with Lyssa,’ said Dan, looking at them both curiously. ‘He’s great at them, got everything right.’ He handed the book to Lyssa’s father, who went through each page slowly, a bewildered expression on his face. He passed the book to his wife.

‘He’s really smart. I reckon if you could get inside his brain you’d be surprised,’ Dan said, giving Andre a playful nudge.

Lyssa’s mum looked up from the book and put a hand out to Dan. ‘Thank you for coming to see us, Dan. We are very grateful Lyssa has a friend like you.’

Dan felt his eyes prick with tears and he looked at her as he stood to leave. ‘Actually, I lost her friendship. I wish I hadn’t, but I did. Please send her my best when you speak to her.’