I’m lingering at the rear of the pack, lost in these memories, only half listening to Alice telling everyone about the second series of some Game of Thrones prequel we’ve apparently started watching – ‘Ben can’t stand it, but I’m hooked. Aren’t I, babe?’ – when suddenly a bright red rubber ball stops us all in our tracks.

It skitters across the grass in front of us, followed a split second later by a shaggy-haired miniature Schnauzer, which scoops it up in its slobbery jaws and beams at us triumphantly.

‘God, I wish people would learn to control their dogs,’ Becky tuts.

I glance in the direction it came from, and in an instant, my wine-fugged head is clear, and my heartbeat has tripled in speed.

On the other side of the park, a scruffy-bearded man in a shabby-looking suit is waving at us.

‘Yeah, OK, mate, chill out,’ Phil mutters, waving back. ‘Apology accepted.’

That lead weight on my shoulders has disappeared, and my whole body is suddenly alive with hope. He’s here!

I glance around frantically for somewhere – anywhere – I might be able to talk to him privately, but the others keep walking on. The little dog stays rooted to the spot, staring up at me with its tail wagging. I get the strange impression that it won’t move until I start walking with it.

‘Hey – I’ll catch you guys up,’ I blurt.

Alice turns around. ‘What?’

‘I’ve just seen someone I know. From work. I should go and say merry Christmas. I’ll catch up with you in a sec.’

Alice appears faintly appalled by this suggestion, but makes no effort to stop me. ‘All right … fine. We’ll meet you by the bandstand.’

‘OK.’

It’s all I can do to stop myself sprinting in the watch-seller’s direction. I set off speed-walking as a compromise, and the Schnauzer begins trotting along next to me, panting happily. The watch-seller is wearing his usual crumpled Grandad Jack grin, and as I approach, he raises a hand in cheery salute.

‘Lovely day for a Christmas stroll!’ He nods in the direction of Alice and the others. ‘They seem like a friendly bunch.’

‘Look, what the hell is—’ I begin, but he holds up a finger to stop me.

‘Just a moment.’

He wrangles the ball from the Schnauzer’s mouth and hurls it back across the park – with impressive force for a man who could well be pushing seventy. The little dog blazes after it, yelping with delight, and the old man watches it go with a fond smile.

‘He gets rather fidgety if we stand around talking. Now then …’ He pats my shoulder gently, and we set off on the Schnauzer’s trail. ‘What do you think?’ He glances around the park. ‘Is it everything you hoped for?’