And I’m enjoying it. For the first time in ages, it doesn’t hurt to smile.

Every three days, Carl asks for updates about the condition of ‘the package’ and whether it’s ready for ‘delivery’.

I don’t think Jamie’s convinced that what he refers to only as ‘the stuff from last year’ is over. On the one occasion that he brings it up, we’re outside the public toilet on the high street, waiting for Ahmed. It’s a Sunday, late January.

‘Is it sorted then?’

‘Yeah, nearly.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means yes, it’s sorted.’

‘Police?’

‘Yes.’

It’s not time for the police yet. A small lie at this stage is necessary. Jamie doesn’t see through it, but he can see its edges; I think this is why he’s always wary of me. Whenever I see Ahmed, it’s the three of us, Jamie always arriving at the place we’ve arranged to meet a few minutes earlier than I do. He claimed he was quicker on his crutches than he planned to be, but since the cast came off a few weeks ago and he’s been walking almost normally again, he’s still always a few minutes ahead of me.

Ahmed comes out of the toilet, wiping his hands on his trousers.

‘Only one urinal,’ he says to me. ‘So I used the cubicle, just like you said.’

‘Good work. You’re almost a native, mate.’

And we all laugh.

*

I see Dana often.

On bright days, when the ground isn’t too wet, we spread out an old tarpaulin in her garden and just sit together, sometimes talking, sometimes just watching the clouds. Sometimes, we watch the clouds until they start to fade, and watch our breath instead, clouding in front of us and drifting away.

The crocuses have started to come up. Small green shoots blooming white, purple and pink, their little yellow stamen like tongues of fire. They’re just like Dana described, all those months ago. And there are snowdrops too, along the border, near the well.

At some point, on one of the evenings when we’re lying there, her hand finds my hand and holds it.

When we talk, it’s about what we should do. Despite her certainty before the holidays, she has little more idea than I do. Perhaps she knew that certainty from her was exactly what I needed. I’m grateful for that. We both agree that we’ll have to talk to the police – I know Jamie isn’t wrong – but we need to get our timing right. Phase one means different things for different people. There’s a lot of things that need to be ‘sourced’ – a coordinated list of items bought by different people from different shops, never more than one item per person. There are things to be booked and hired and organised and scheduled, to which the same rules apply.