Yet maybe deep down, he thought, she was pleased. Kids like it if you say no. He remembered his son once, when he was a little guy, saying something about another boy: “His parents don’t care about him at all, Dad. They let him do anything he likes.” There was wisdom in that.

“Let’s walk back across the park,” he suggested.

“Walk? Okay.”

But a tiny detour first, he thought. Just up to Seventy-second Street. It was a grand street to walk across. As they came to Central Park West, he paused and pointed at the Dakota.

“You know who lived there.”

“Tell me.”

“John Lennon. The Beatles.”

“Right. I knew that. He got shot there. And his wife Yoko Ono made a beautiful garden in the park opposite.”

“Did you ever go in there?”

“I know you’re going to take me anyway.”

“Too right I am.”

They crossed Central Park West and entered the park. He led Emma to the entrance of Yoko Ono’s garden.

“It’s called Strawberry Fields, after a famous Beatles song,” he said.

“Okay.”

“Now, look down at that plaque on the ground. What does it say?”

“It says, ‘Imagine.’”

“Right. That’s after a song too.” He hummed a bit of it.

“You really shouldn’t sing, Dad.”

“It’s about everybody in the world living in peace. Well, it’s about quite a lot of things that I guess were important to John Lennon. But the real point is kind of existential. You can change the world if you’re prepared to imagine something better. You have to imagine. Do you get it?”

“If you say so.”

“Well, I do.”

They strolled round it.

“There would have been deer here originally, of course.”

“Like all over Westchester.”

“Exactly. Manhattan was a big Indian hunting ground when the Dutch first came. Your ancestors, you know.”

“Yes, Dad.” She rolled her eyes, but with a smile. “I know. I’m descended from the Dutch and the English, and I don’t know who else.”

“Broadway, pretty much, was an Indian trail. And another trail went up somewhat east of Central Park.”

“Great. Do I have to know all this?”

“I think so.”

“Anything else?”

Gorham was silent. He was thinking.

“It’s funny, this is called Strawberry Fields because of the song, but when it was in its native state, there could easily have been wild strawberries here. Have you ever eaten wild strawberries?”

“I don’t think so.”

“We must remedy that sometime. We ought to go camping and eat wild strawberries.”

To his surprise, she seemed to like the idea.

“We could do that. Go camping together.” She put her arm through his. “Can we do that? Promise?”

“I promise.”

They walked across the park arm in arm. The sun was warm. He didn’t try to preach to her any more, and she seemed quite happy just walking by his side.