Lorna’s heart felt as skittery as a newborn lamb. Without knowing it, she had waited years for this moment and yet, now that they were here and the moment was about to happen, she was no longer sure she was ready at all. What if he didn’t like her? What if she had built her hopes up for nothing and he wasn’t interested? Would he even turn up?

She was worried too that she would overreact and overwhelm him with the love she already felt for him. You’re not going to smother the lad now, are you? Roy had asked her when they’d first made contact. Of course I’m not! she had tutted in response, but they both knew what she was like. Oh, she was desperate to love him, though! How she hoped he would let her.

She flipped down the passenger mirror for one last application of lipstick, fretting suddenly that she was wearing the wrong outfit, that she should have picked something dressier for the occasion. What were you supposed to wear anyway, the first time you met your long-lost grandson? She felt as if there should be trumpets playing a fanfare for his arrival. A master of ceremonies overseeing the whole situation. It seemed almost as life-changing as her own wedding.

‘You look fine,’ said Roy, as if reading her mind. Perhaps he noticed the pulse that seemed to be beating double-time at her throat. The plucking of her hands at a wrinkle in her skirt. ‘Shall we go in then? We’re five minutes early, so if you’d rather sit here and have a panic we could do that instead, though.’

She huffed at him for teasing her when this was such a huge day, such a big deal. That was Roy’s coping mechanism, though, just as flapping and worrying were hers. They made a right pair, honestly. ‘Let’s go in,’ she said, pressing her lips together, then blotting them on a tissue. She glanced again in the mirror and wrinkled her nose at herself. When had she got so old? Well, she’d just have to do.

Leon Andrew Waterford, that was his name: her nineteen-year-old grandson. He was studying physics at Glasgow University, but had spent the summer inter-railing around Europe, picking up bits of work here and there apparently, which was why it had taken them this long to be able to meet. He was now back home in Bournemouth, spending a few weeks with his adoptive parents before he returned to Scotland for his second year. The three of them were meeting today in a pub just outside Plymouth – neutral ground for everyone concerned.