As for my sister’s email, it was waiting for me in my inbox the morning after the dance, and I read it and wept with relief and joy and called her immediately. And woke her up, as it was the middle of the night and I’d been in such a rush to speak to her that I hadn’t worked out the time difference. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. And we picked up, right where we left off – like we were having a conversation ten minutes ago. We talked for hours, and when finally I got off the phone, I went online and promptly booked my plane ticket.

‘OK, well, I’d better say my goodbyes.’

I walk into the kitchen, expecting to find Stanley, but instead I see the French windows have been left open and he’s outside in the garden with Valentine. Wrapped up in scarves and gloves, Stanley has his binoculars, while Valentine is pointing at something. I walk over to them.

‘Were you both born in a barn,’ I chide, but Valentine turns to me quickly, his finger over his mouth.

‘Ssshh.’

I frown, then look up to see where he’s pointing. It’s my bird feeder. High up in the sycamore tree. There’s a bird.

‘It’s a robin,’ he whispers, his face brightening. ‘Can you see his red chest – look?’

I peer more closely, squinting into the weak late-afternoon sunshine.

‘Do you want my binoculars?’

I look down to see Stanley holding them out to me.

‘Thanks, Stan.’ I nod and take them from him. Everything’s blurry at first and I have to turn the apertures until they come into focus. And then I see it, close up: its tiny beak and glistening eyes, its feathers, the red of its chest. It’s pecking hungrily at the bird feeder, checking this way and that, as if to make sure no one has seen it yet.

‘See. I told you they’d come. You just have to be patient. Birds get scared of new things. Takes them a while to pluck up the courage. The first one is the hardest, but now the rest will follow.’

I can hear Valentine and I dip the binoculars and look at him. He’s smiling at me.

‘Took a while, but it’s worth waiting for, isn’t it?’

And then we both smile at each other, and I know he’s not just talking about the birds.

‘Liv.’

‘Yes?’ I look down at Stanley, who’s peering at me.

‘Is that your real name?’

‘Well, it’s Olivia really, but you can shorten it to Liv.’

‘Like the word “live” that means to be alive?’

‘No, mine’s spelled differently. There’s no e.’

‘But it sounds the same.’

‘Yes.’ I nod and take a deep lungful of wintry air. ‘It feels the same too.’

I can see Stan frowning, looking a bit confused, as I hand him back his binoculars and shake his hand goodbye and hug Valentine, who for the first time doesn’t just let me hug him, but squeezes me right back.