‘Is this a chessboard?’ I ask.

‘Yeah. Not very rock and roll, I know, but I just love the game. I’ve carved all the pieces too. I’ll show you.’

Michael reaches into a hollow part of the tree stump and pulls out a waterproof bag – the kind you put survival gear into. He opens it and shows me crudely carved wooden chess pieces.

‘My groundskeeper and I spent weeks whittling these,’ says Michael. ‘His wife died, so … you know. He likes to keep himself busy. I tell him to spend as much time here as he likes with us. He’s not keen on being at home.’

Music boom, boom, booms from the woodland stage and I hear Cat’s croaky, cigarette-ravaged voice singing ‘My Way’.

‘I love chess,’ I say. ‘I was captain of the school chess team. But then I got into music.’

‘No kidding? Like father, like daughter. A logical mind under the chaos and creativity. Hey, you must be a bit good if you were captain of your team.’

‘Well … yeah.’ I manage a smile. ‘I mean, I never lost. Not to players my own age.’

‘I should have known a daughter of mine would be a chess champion,’ says Michael. ‘Well, that sounds like a challenge to me. Let’s set up the pieces.’

I examine a roughly carved bishop. ‘If we’re playing, we won’t be talking about anything meaningful.’ I look up then, right into his dark eyes.

‘You’re giving me credit for more intelligence than I have,’ Michael laughs. ‘I’m not plotting some great distraction. I just wanted to play a chess game with my little girl.’

‘If I win, will you stop beating around the bush and tell me what you know?’

Michael watches me for a moment. ‘Okay, deal,’ he agrees, shaking my hand. ‘But you won’t win.’ His palm feels rough but warm.

I laugh. ‘I will win. I’ve never lost.’

‘Maybe you’ve never played with anyone decent before.’

‘Oh, he’s got you playing chess, has he?’ Diane comes strolling over, heels sinking into leaves and mud. ‘Don’t fall for it, Liberty. Never play games with Michael. He makes you think you’re going to win and then he takes you to the cleaners.’

‘I just told her she’s going to lose,’ says Michael. ‘That’s hardly misleading her, is it?’

‘You won’t win this game,’ I say, eyes moving over the chessboard.

Diane pats my shoulder. ‘Well, at least you’re confident.’

‘Sorry.’ I blush. ‘I know that makes me sound like an idiot. But it’s true. And I have an especially good incentive to win.’

‘Let battle commence,’ says Michael.

Diane sits on another tree stump and watches us play. She’s a good audience member, gasping at the appropriate moments.

Eventually, Michael gets me in a position where I can’t win. I tip my king and grudgingly shake his hand.