The pavement bakes in the sunlight as they emerge from the flat. Across the road, the green is swarming with people, queues of kids lining up to use the tennis courts. A tent has appeared beneath the tall trees at one end of the park, laundry hanging on a makeshift line strung between the trunks of two sycamores. Jake nods towards it. ‘Poor sods,’ he mutters, taking Matthew’s hand.

She’s reminded of how lucky they are to have their own place now.

They walk around to the People’s Park, Jake marvelling aloud over an amenity like this only minutes from their front door. The railed-in grounds are thronged on this sunny late-afternoon, picnic blankets spread over the grass, teenagers sprawling in packs beneath the trees, screams rising from the playground beyond. Matthew has gone ahead of them on his scooter. Leah and Jake follow, holding hands, watching him as he weaves his way along the path between jaunty flower beds, the fountains spouting, sending out bright arcs of sparkling water.

A couple walk past, a baby strapped to the man’s chest, little legs vigorously kicking, and Leah squeezes Jake’s hand. How extraordinary this is! She feels the newness of everything, their secret lending a freshness to the afternoon, the clipped lawns, the blue swathe of the sea in the harbour beyond. A year ago, she could not have imagined this turn her life would take, and the thought fills her with hope.

‘You wait here,’ Jake says, directing her to a bench in the sunlight, while he takes Matthew around the corner to Teddy’s where a queue has formed.

She closes her eyes, feeling the heat on her face as she lifts it to the sun. For just a moment, she feels perfectly relaxed. Untroubled. Serene.

‘Hello there.’

She hears the voice and opens her eyes, squints in the bright glare of the sun at the silhouetted figure before her.

‘I’m sorry. I’ve startled you,’ Anton says, and she sits up straighter, looks down quickly, smoothing her skirt across her thighs.

‘No, that’s all right. I was just soaking up the sun.’

‘It’s a glorious day.’

He smiles down at her, and for some reason Leah feels shy under his gaze. Carrying a plastic bag of oranges, he looks different in the daylight. His clothes for a start – a light blue linen shirt, a white golf-cap that’s seen better days. He appears more relaxed, and younger than she remembered. It is only now that the similarities between Anton and his son Mark become apparent to her. It’s there in the eyes, the same expressive quality, the direct gaze. Anton, though, is less serious than his son. His smile comes readily, and she feels the warmth of it now as she says, ‘It’s busy here today,’ making small-talk.

He nods. ‘It has ever been so. A hint of good weather, and this place is thronged.’