She came to the little hamlet of Pooley Bridge, where the traffic grew thick and two worlds collided jarringly. The south shore of Ullswater apart from campsites and rugged hills, was largely a haven of peace and quiet. As she hit the main road to Penrith, however, her spirits sagged a little: the sky seemed less bright, and clouds hung over the buildings in the distance. The town was large and noisy, and confirmed why she didn’t go there often, though the red sandstone of the oldest structures was attractive. In the distance, the silhouettes of estates and high-rises provided a drab backdrop. The centre itself comprised a mixture of trendy chains, eateries and pubs, competing with bargain-basement outlets and bankrupt boutiques. Ella didn’t associate with anyone in the town: their paths simply didn’t cross. If she and Thomas fancied a quality meal in a restaurant, they’d go to a smart hotel on one of the lakes, or down to Cartmel to the two-Michelin-starred L’Enclume.

She parked in one of the large pay-and-displays and took her jacket from the back seat. She locked up as she walked briskly away, bracing herself against a piercing wind. The high street wasn’t far, and she looked forward to going inside a shop to warm up. As she rushed through a shortcut alley, she was distracted by a couple of teenagers who she thought should be at school and bumped straight into a man coming the other way. He was tall and strong and she bounced right off him and into the wall along the side of the narrow alleyway, banging her elbow hard.

‘Oh my goodness, are you all right? I’m so sorry,’ he said.

Ella gathered herself and smiled.

‘It’s my fault, I wasn’t paying attention. Yes, I’m all right, thank you.’

She carried on along the alley, rubbing her elbow. Calm down, Ella, she told herself.

The trip to the Apple Store only took ten minutes, and she was back at the car in no time at all. She noticed two boys wearing hoodies (she hated Jordan wearing the damn things) smoking cigarettes by the pay-and-display machine, and she scrunched up her nose as the smell wafted in through her open door. She slammed it shut and the boys looked around, sizing up the car and making lewd gestures. Ella was gobsmacked and for a minute didn’t know how to react. She started the engine to pull away, but before she could control herself, she flicked an emphatic middle finger at both of them. Unfortunately, her finger was still raised when she rounded the parked cars, and an elderly man stopped dead in his tracks, mouth open, bemused by what he saw. She quickly dropped her hand and mouthed an apology, but it was too late: the old man looked traumatised. She squirmed in shame as the boys fell about laughing.