The parkland is a botanical paradise. Butterflies flicker through clumpy bushes of purple wallflowers. Bees flit through hyacinths and crab apple and crocuses. The blackbirds are singing and the air is already warm, scented with sweet violet and roses. There is a mix of peach and apple and cherry trees, as well as a medlar, which makes me think of the jelly my grandmother used to make each autumn. In the centre of it all is a huge cedar of Lebanon.

The area that borders Eliza’s garden is bounded by a wall. This is covered in clematis and jasmine, though they are not yet in flower. Near the wall is a tulip tree with a trunk that splits a metre and a half above ground. Each segment is knotted and twisted and perfect for climbing. I look around me. There is a rock garden, where a mother and her little girl are sitting, the mother sipping coffee from a takeaway cup, the child eating some sort of muffin. On a path that circles a duck pond filled with lily pads, an elderly man is taking his spaniel for a walk. Nobody is paying attention to me.

Thirty seconds later, I am sitting on one of the tulip tree’s thick branches, a third of a metre beneath the top of the brick wall. I have a perfect view of Eliza’s garden, and the rear of the house. The curtains and blinds are drawn on the upper floors, but the basement wall of glass that is her kitchen is uncovered. The sun is glinting too brightly for me to see inside.

I shift myself onto the wall. I don’t have time to think about the two-and-a-half-metre drop. The grass on the other side will be soft, and my arms are strong from the gym. I slip my bag from my shoulder and release my grip. My bag hits the ground with a soft thud, and makes me think of when I dropped Zac’s bag from the garage shelf in St Ives two years ago. All in one move, before I can change my mind, I lower myself, dangling from the top, my palms burning as I cling on, my knees stinging from being scraped and banged on the bricks. This move is the hardest part.

The rest isn’t so scary. With my arms and body length getting me a good way there, the distance to the ground isn’t as much as I’d imagined. I land squarely on my feet, my legs wobbling in a kind of shock that I have done this and managed it without breaking any bones. I wipe my hands on my dress, grab my bag, and move towards the house, skirting the side of the brick wall.