‘Deal,’ said Nico. It was already after five so he went to his dad’s garage to take down his skates from the wall, unsurprised to find them sharpened and ready. In a box was his practice gear and he brought it indoors to warm up. It smelled musty but that proved you were a hockey player.

It was weird driving to the rink or ishall in Nässjö because butterflies fluttered in his stomach. He’d assisted his dad a few times when he was home for his winter visit but he hadn’t taken a group himself since college in the US when he’d helped coach a junior team, those far-off days of trying to keep up his training and his grade point average simultaneously.

Lars had got someone at Nässjö rink to inform the parents of the change of coach but some would have encountered Nico when he’d helped Lars before. A couple he knew from school.

Hannah ushered Josie and Maria to the seating area behind the boards and a few parents stayed to help with gearing up. One, Henrik, acted as assistant coach and Nico shook his hand. The level of teenage chatter, mostly in Swedish, was enough to pop an eardrum. Nico answered questions about Lars or about college hockey in the States. As he talked he pulled on protective undershorts then strapped on his shin pads and huge hockey oversocks that attached to the undershorts. Stepping into hockey pants, he pulled them up and with familiar, automatic movements, secured lacing and belt. Skates next, snug but not cutting circulation, then the shoulder pads secured at chest and bicep. Elbow pads, checking the slash guard was on the outside, then emerald green jersey. Helmet with face cage but no mouth guard as he’d be talking to the kids. Gloves and stick – it had taken so much energy to dress he almost needed a nap now – and for the first time in a year he was ready to hit the ice.

A check of the kids’ equipment, removal of blade guards, then he slid through the gap in the boards under bright rink lights, the kids spilling onto the ice after him, sticks in hands. Henrik was the last, juggling a tower of cones and closing the boards behind him.

For an instant, Nico was super-conscious of Hannah, Maria bouncing on her lap and Josie waving. Then he snapped into focus and sent the kids for a couple of warm-up laps while he and Henrik set out cones at the corners, the pitch lines showing colourfully through the ice.

‘OK,’ he shouted, and the kids slowed and joined him in the centre, the showier ones being sure to visibly shave the ice as they halted. ‘Speed around the rink. I’m looking for a smooth, galloping stride and you need to pass outside the cones. Number one, go!’