It seemed to take forever to walk the short distance to the pub entrance. It was a smart whitewashed building, with baskets of trailing pink petunias hanging outside and blackboards propped up advertising their lunch menu and that night’s fish specials. Lorna’s hands felt clammy as she and Roy reached the door. She hoped Leon wouldn’t be there yet, so that she could have a cup of tea and compose herself – but then changed her mind in the next moment. Of course she hoped he was already there! How would she be able to wait any longer?

It hadn’t taken them long to track him down, once they had filled in the various forms and sent them off. Finding out his name had been like being handed the key to a treasure chest full of riches – thanks to the Internet, they had been able to track Leon’s life through the years: from swimming galas he’d competed in, to pictures in the Bournemouth newspaper of his school play and GCSE celebrations . . . As for the photographs of him, Lorna had burst into tears the first time she saw one, because he had exactly the same dark shaggy hair and shy smile as Aidan. Two peas in a pod. It was a miracle.

Of course Lorna was biased, but he did sound a remarkable young man: handsome and talented, a prize-winning swimmer, a gifted student. He had made it to university, just as Aidan should have done, and by all accounts was enjoying himself there. What an accomplished lad he seemed! She hadn’t even met him yet, but could already burst with pride whenever she reflected on all his achievements. His adoptive parents had done a good job, clearly. Perhaps even a better job than two grieving grandparents might have done. Whichever, she felt nothing but gratitude towards them for loving him and looking after him while she’d been oblivious to his existence.

We’ve found him, she had texted Olivia, with links to the photos and other pieces of information. This is him. Your boy. Our boy! Isn’t he handsome?

Olivia had phoned her, almost immediately. ‘Oh my goodness,’ she had said. ‘Doesn’t he look like Aidan? Isn’t he gorgeous?’ She’d sounded emotional, as if she was struggling to take the news in. ‘He’s a real person,’ she’d added, her voice cracking. ‘I know that sounds silly – of course he’s a person, he’s a nineteen-year-old young man! – but he’s never quite seemed real in my head before. He’s been frozen in time for me, a crying baby being taken away from my arms. Until now.’

‘We’re going to try and meet him soon,’ Lorna had replied, unable to stop looking at the pictures in front of her. ‘How about you? Will you want to get in touch too, do you think?’