Julie grabs a handful of napkins and begins to mop up the spill. ‘This boy is so clumsy,’ she says and then grabs his cheek.

‘Stop it,’ he moans.

She lets go and attempts to stroke down his hair, which today is out in a little afro.

‘Nana?’

‘Yes, sweetheart,’ she says kissing his head as he slides down next to her.

‘Do you have any money on you?’

‘Have you said hi to your auntie Yvonne yet?’ Julie says.

He leans over and waves at her. ‘Hi, Yvonne.’

‘Hi, Kiama. Did you have fun at the adventure playground?’

‘Not really, I was too hungry to enjoy myself properly.’

‘What do you need money for?’ Julie asks as she pulls out her purse.

‘An ice cream?’

She hands him a £10 note and he smiles before nudging a friend and running off towards the ice cream van at the park’s gate.

‘Can’t believe he’s going,’ Julie says. ‘Going so far away.’

‘And will you visit?’

‘I’m already looking at flights,’ she whispers. ‘Though I want to give it some time. Let them settle in. Don’t want Emma feeling like I’m checking up on her. But I will need to see my boy soon.’

They watch as the boys do a cautious slow walk back, holding their bright blue ice creams in one hand, cans of Coke in the other. They sit on the edge of the blanket and alternate between mouthfuls of each.

‘Why is she going?’ Julie asks. ‘Why would she do this? It’s completely ridiculous.’

Yvonne shakes her head; she doesn’t want to speak for fear of what she’ll say. Julie has this thing about her, this warmth which makes you trust her. Emma often said the same thing, that every time Julie would visit in those first few months after Kiama was born, Emma would confide in her and cry her eyes out. It didn’t matter that she was Lewis’s mum.

‘Emma’s your best friend. You must know why she’s doing something so extreme? It’s not normal to pick up your family and leave like this. Especially to go there.’

‘But Emma’s from there. Her family is in Kenya. Her parents.’

‘And what about Kiama? His family is here. His dad, me, all his uncles and cousins.’

Lewis is always telling stories about his family, about his brothers, nieces and nephews. But it’s hard to picture Kiama as being part of this, because Yvonne can only ever see him as an extension of Emma.

‘I have six grandchildren, I try not to meddle in their lives,’ Julie says, ‘but him,’ she nods over to Kiama, who now sits cuddling into Emma as she convinces him to leave the park, ‘he’s the one I worry about.’

‘Why?’

‘You know why. You’ve seen him grow up. He struggles with so many things.’