She can picture him in the staffroom, making the tea for everyone, bringing in cakes on Fridays. Lizzie found that side of teaching difficult. She preferred to spend her time in the staffroom working so she could spend her free time with Lenny and Greg. In happier times, she would want to rush home, would wedge herself between them on the sofa.

‘Come on. Turn the TV off and get outside. Why don’t we be mycophagists? That’s someone who eats wild mushrooms,’ she’d say, and Lenny and Greg would roll their eyes and Lenny would go back to the TV and Greg would kiss her forehead and reply, ‘You don’t have to teach everyone all the time, hon.’ But then, after half an hour, he’d say, ‘Right. Wellies on, Lenny. I’ll make the sandwiches.’

Lizzie would clap her hands and rush to pack chocolate and her book of things to spot outside, and they’d be off, Greg and Lenny pretending not to be impressed with all her facts, even though Lizzie knew they were listening.

‘How much potassium does a single portobello mushroom contain, Lenny?’

‘More than a whole banana, Mum.’

It was so easy to be happy then. They lived in their own bubble, her and Greg and Lenny. Until it popped.

She can’t keep doing this, foraging back in her past, looking for the versions of who she used to be. She’s got to keep moving forward. She’s begun doing some paperwork for Tess, who pays her a pittance, but it’s a start. She spent her first wages on organic fruit and veg for the shelter, Lenny’s football stickers and an issue of her much-missed New Scientist. With the change, she bought a bag of oranges and a bunch of bananas for the homeless man outside the shop. ‘I’ll bring you some socks next time,’ she said. ‘Feet are representative of the state of your whole body. The salt water from the sea would help clean out some of those cuts. Just make sure you keep them as dry as you can afterwards.’

‘Thank you,’ the man said, looking shocked. Most people bought him the three-pound meal deal. All-day-breakfast sandwiches, salty crisps and fizzy drinks.

‘The bananas will boost your serotonin, and the oranges will help your gout.’ She nodded at the swollen red lumps on his feet. ‘Drinking less grain-based alcohol would help too.’

He smiled at her then and asked, ‘Are you a doctor?’

‘No. I just know things.’

He took the oranges and bananas and set them down on his filthy blanket. ‘You should be a doctor, lady.’