My relationship with Joe had become real. Here he was, a piece of him, in the physical world, a spark of Joe inside a girl he could never know. He had crossed over to my world. He was alive in 2019 in Zara.

The feelings were too much. It broke inside me, a tidal wave of loss. Zara had lost someone before she was even born, just as Sasha’s baby had. I missed Mum. I missed Joe, for Zara, for Coco, for Gus. I wanted to stick all the pieces of everyone back together. I blinked hard, and when I saw Abby looking at me I knew I needed to cover it up so I did the only thing I could think of in the moment and faked a sneeze.

‘I bless you!’ said Coco, from behind me. I looked round: she was extending a hand like the Pope.

‘I thank you,’ I said, and turned back to Zara, wrestling myself under control. Focus on the girls.

‘You’re eight,’ I said, making myself smile like an idiot as I blinked the tears away, ‘and that’s half sixteen. But when you’re sixteen I’ll be twenty-four, and when you’re twenty-four I’ll be thirty-two and that’s hardly any difference at all.’

‘My mum’s thirty-nine,’ she said, and Abby rolled her eyes.

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Cheers.’

‘Daddy’s thirty-seven.’

‘That sounds old!’ I said.

‘Anyway!’ Abby was brisk. ‘I can see straight off that you and the girls will be just fine. Coco, even though it’s nearly dinner time, do you want to fetch us all a biscuit?’

Coco scampered off and I sat beside Zara. Nearly dinner time. Did that mean Gus would be home?

‘So,’ I said. ‘What time should I come tomorrow?’

‘About quarter to seven?’ Abby said. ‘Gus and I should head off at seven. We’ll walk to town. His work thing is at the Italian place. You know, just up from the harbour. Venezia something? They’ve hired out the whole restaurant and we’ve got a set menu. Somehow we’re meant to eat, like, pizza at the same time as listening to speeches and clapping people getting awards and all that. Not the most fun way to spend an evening, but I guess it’ll be OK.’

‘My sister worked there when she was in sixth form,’ I said. ‘It’s nice. I mean, they have good standards in the kitchen and they don’t spit in the food.’

‘Good to know! I’ll tell Gus.’

She grinned at me. Abby, I thought, was genuinely lovely. I couldn’t wait to report all this to Joe.