We stand in silence, looking at the picture.

Eventually, Luke says, “We used to call him Mary, you know.”

I bristle at what seems to be a slur, but he smiles and says, “It’s because he’s like Mary Poppins. He lands in your life and tries to make it better, and then he’s gone again without ever allowing anyone into his own life.” He shoots me a look. “I know you’ve got in, though.”

I jerk. “How?”

He taps the picture. “Because of this. He doesn’t do this for anyone. We’ve all asked for pictures over the years. Christ, we have a famous artist in the family. Would it kill him to do a few doodles? I had to buy a bloody painting just to get one on my wall.” My mouth twitches. “But no. Nothing. Nada. Except for humouring Ma by painting the judge. But you. He doesn’t simply paint you a picture. It’s a complete one-off.” He taps it again meditatively before looking at me. “And it’s a labour of love, Mags.”

I think I stop breathing. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “That’s between the two of you.” He reaches into his pocket and produces a cream envelope. Written on it in Laurie’s elegant scrawl is my name. I snatch it from him, and he half-smiles. His expression sobers quickly.

“You know what’s wrong with my brother, don’t you?”

“I couldn’t tell you, if he hasn’t told you himself first,” I say levelly.

“He has.” He shakes his head. “It isn’t fair.”

“Life very rarely is. Much is wrong with this world, and sometimes it seems that only the good people suffer.”

“But if you have the chance to make something right, you should take it, right?” he says earnestly, staring at me.

I hesitate. “It’s not that easy. He left me. That was his choice, and who am I to force anything on him? We were just friends, after all.”

“Okay,” he says with a wealth of scepticism on his face. He looks at me sternly. “Is he worth the trouble, though?”

I nod fervently, even before the words finish coming from his mouth.

He smiles. “Then go and get him. He’s hurting, Mags, and he needs you. I know if this were a book, he’d come to you and apologise, and he did try that two days ago. I watched him traipse over here every hour, and each time he came back, his shoulders were a little lower, and he looked even more unhappy.” I wince. “I’m sure there’ll be times when it’s the other way around, and you’ll need him more, but that’s not now. He’s making life-changing decisions on his own, and that hurts my heart so much.”