‘It was.’ Her smile isn’t as bright as she looks back at Dev and Esen. ‘They sent me to Wycombe Abbey a few weeks later. I don’t know what I did.’ She shrugs. ‘Why I suddenly became so difficult to love.’

Before I can say anything, she’s gone, bounding over to take her shot now that Dev has grappled the ball off Esen. Poppy hits it perfectly and Dev swallows a gasp, covering her mouth with her hand.

‘This is bullshit!’ Esen spits, throwing down her putter. It bounces twice then lands on the fake grass as she stomps off to sulk by a wooden tiki head with an expression that perfectly matches her own.

Dev gets called away to a reap so without her there to keep Esen calm, I suggest we call it a draw. I half expect Poppy to object, but she doesn’t seem to care, clearly amused by the whole thing as she tries to explain why Esen’s putter is bent when she returns it to the guy behind the counter at the café.

‘What do you want to do now?’ I ask Poppy as we head towards Duke’s Mound.

She considers it for a moment and I wonder if she’s made a list of all the things she wants to do before . . . well. Then I think about the lists we made on New Year’s Eve. I didn’t get to do any of the things I wanted to do, but maybe we can do some of hers. There must be something else she wants to do other than play mini golf.

‘I want toast,’ she announces as we get back on to the road.

OK.

We can definitely do toast.

‘Shall we head back to yours, then?’ I ask, nodding across the street her house.

‘My parents don’t have a toaster.’ She looks horrified. ‘Or bread. No,’ She stops, waiting for a bus to pass before crossing the road. ‘There’s a place up here that does the best vegan breakfast.’

Esen points at her. ‘The blue café on the corner opposite St Mary’s Hall?’

‘Yes!’ Poppy points back at her. ‘Have you been?’

‘Nah. It wasn’t there before I, you know. But whenever I pass it’s always really busy.’