Will looks every inch as miserable as I feel as we make our way back to the house. Things aren’t improved when we find that, instead of resting in bed as he normally is on a Sunday afternoon, Jonathan is in the kitchen with a stern expression on his face.

‘And just how long have you two been spying on me?’ he asks as we come through the back door.

‘It’s not spying, Dad,’ Will says guiltily. ‘I was just showing Tilly the helicopter.’

‘Nonsense.’ Jonathan cuts him off. ‘You must think I was born yesterday. Did you seriously think I didn’t know what you were up to? I’ve watched you sneak out there every week since I got home.’

Will sighs. ‘I’m sorry. I just liked seeing that you were getting back out there, that’s all.’

To my surprise, Jonathan swaps the stern expression for a smile. ‘It’s fine. You’re welcome out there any time – you don’t need to wait until my back is turned. You too, Tilly, as long as neither of you touches anything. Audrey’s a sensitive beast, and the slightest thing could mess her up.’

‘We noticed she’s got her name painted on her,’ Will says. ‘Is that new?’

‘Yes. It seemed appropriate after the trouble I went to to track down her namesake.’

Will stares at his father. ‘You did what?’

‘Well, I was curious after we talked about her the other day. Nothing inappropriate, I just wanted to see if I could find out what happened to her. So I did a bit of online sleuthing. Turned out she wasn’t hard to find.’

‘And?’ I ask.

‘She’s still alive and living in Australia. Married twice, divorced twice. Works as an airline pilot for Qantas flying long-haul routes, although she’s about to retire, which she’s dreading.’

‘This is rather more than you’d get from a bit of online stalking,’ I observe.

‘Yes. I sent her a Facebook friend request and we ended up having a chat,’ he admits. ‘I told her about the helicopter and why I’d named it after her, and we had a good laugh remembering some of the scrapes we got into. So I painted the name on and sent her a picture, which she liked. She’s coming over in a couple of weeks, and we might meet up while she’s on layover.’

‘Bloody hell, Dad!’ Will exclaims. ‘Were you going to tell me about this at any point?’

‘I’m telling you now. Were you going to admit to sneaking around in my workshop at any point?’

‘It just seems very quick, that’s all. I mean, after Mum and everything.’

‘I’m only going to meet her for a coffee or maybe lunch, Will. I thought you’d be pleased that I was getting my life back on track and meeting up with friends.’