The trees have begun to shed their leaves and I wish I’d worn a scarf. The light is fading from the sky. I should head home and make food, but I want to stay here a while longer. Drawing my feet up onto the bench, I look to my left and notice a man walking up the hill towards me from the direction of South End Green. For a moment, I shiver. As he moves closer, I notice he is smoking a cigarette and it is almost as though he senses I am going to ask him for one even before I call out. Without saying a word, he walks towards me and offers me the packet. I take one and nod my thanks, reaching into my pocket for a lighter as he moves away again.

Closing my eyes, I inhale, imagining the sun caressing my cheeks, Jess’s laughter as we ran through the grass towards the bandstand, the promise of another long summer.

When I open my eyes sometime later, the sky is dark. In the distance, stationary blue lights throb on one of the streets just off the Heath. From here I can see an ambulance and several police cars. Whatever has happened, it’s not an old lady who has slipped in the bathroom.

For a minute I picture myself following the path from here down to the street I know well, with the tall, wisteria-clad houses. I imagine myself standing at the foot of the front steps with their expensive tiles, and calling out to one of the police officers for information on what has happened.

And then I breathe in; I turn and walk in the other direction.

At home, the tidiness of the flat momentarily confounds me. Moving across to the kitchen counter, I deposit a bag of supplies on it, pulling out a loaf of bread and some cheese and then turning on the kettle. Watching the flow of pedestrians on the street through the window, I wait for it to boil before moving to the sofa, sitting cross-legged, eating a sandwich, flinching as the mug of tea burns my lips.

For a minute, I flick through the channels on the TV, but there is nothing on and so, moving back to the table, I pick up my computer and lift the lid, wondering what sort of film I will choose to watch. The laptop is still dead and so I plug it in to charge, trying to ignore the voice in my head telling me it’s long past time for a drink.

Seizing the distraction of the computer when the screen lights up, I lift the lid and the photograph from my previous search stares back from the page.

Not now, I tell myself. Watch a film, for God’s sake. Just for one night, chill the fuck out.