In that moment, I feel sorry for Tom. For him, this must be both amazing and heartbreaking. Knowing that he can’t have this sort of relationship with his own daughter must break him in two. Maybe that’s why he gets on so well with other people’s kids, I think. It’s his way of getting that out of his system. And that’s why I feel sorry for him: because he’s a natural. He knows exactly what they want to do, precisely what they want to hear. He’s got them engaged, enraptured and excited.

Twenty minutes or so later, Tom jogs back over to us to see how we’re getting on.

‘Yeah, not bad. Looks like you’re keeping warmer than we are, anyway, all that running around,’ I say.

‘I was just going to ask if you wanted to come and look in a couple of shops with me, see if we can get some blankets or camping chairs or something,’ Tom replies. There’s a cheeky glint in his eye that tells me shopping’s not all he’s got planned.

‘That sounds like a great idea,’ I say, and I take his outstretched hand as he helps me up to my feet. ‘Anyone want anything?’

‘Nope, all good here,’ Gareth says. ‘Never too cold for a barbie.’

‘Says the man who didn’t know temperatures could drop below forty celsius before he moved to England,’ Melissa says, laughing.

‘Actually, Tom, there is something,’ Cath says, looking at him. ‘Ben and I have been doing a bit of shuffling around with the wedding plans. Looks like we got our numbers a bit mixed up, and there’s a spare place. We wondered if you’d like to come.’

Tom looks at me, then back at Cath. ‘Sure. That’d be really lovely. Thanks, Cath.’

13

Tom and I head off towards the road, holding hands as we clamber over the pebbles, my toes cold and numb inside my boots. Even though it’s not a particularly cold day, sitting around on the seafront doing nothing isn’t keeping me especially warm.

‘You cold?’ Tom says, feeling me shiver.

‘A bit. I’ll be alright after a walk.’

‘Never mind a walk. Come on, this way,’ he says, pulling me across the road and up a side street. A couple of minutes later, we walk into a kids’ play park. There’s no-one around, and it strikes me that slides, swings and roundabouts probably aren’t massively popular in the middle of December.

‘This should keep you warm,’ he says, hoisting himself up and climbing along the monkey bars like a chimpanzee.

‘I doubt it. That metal looks freezing!’

‘Should’ve brought your gloves,’ Tom replies, sticking his tongue out at me, making me laugh.

‘You told me it wouldn’t be cold enough for gloves.’

Tom shrugs. ‘What can I say? I lied.’

‘You’re a bad man, Thomas.’

‘Oh yes. Dreadful. Now are you going to just stand there or are you going to come and play?’

‘That all depends what we’re playing with,’ I say, walking over to him, pressing my body up against him and kissing him. I feel like I’m fourteen again, stealing a snog in the park while my friends wait round the corner. For the first time in a long time, I feel free and secure at the same time. I love watching Tom mess around like a big kid, embracing his inner child while still making me feel so safe at the same time.