‘Where’s Ben?’

‘He’s putting my suitcase in the car. Have you seen Harry?’

As if on cue, there’s a loud barking and Harry comes barrelling out of the kitchen as he spots the squirrel. I don’t know whether it’s the turmeric paste that Valentine suggested or all the wild swimming that’s acted like hydrotherapy, but his arthritis does seem to be a lot better.

‘Is he still after that bloody squirrel?’ says Valentine. ‘He’ll never catch it.’

‘I know.’ I smile, thinking about life. ‘I don’t think he really wants to. The fun would be over then, wouldn’t it?’

I find Ben outside with the engine running, trying to warm up the Land Rover. His van is full of building materials, so we’re taking mine.

‘Got your passport?’

‘Yep,’ I nod, glancing at my suitcase in the back. I pause, noticing the sun sinking behind the trees across the graveyard, and feel Harry brush against my legs. ‘Can we just walk up the lane to the fields and watch the sunset? We’ve got time.’

Ben looks at his watch. For someone who’s never seemed that bothered by time-keeping, he’s taking his job of driving me to the airport to catch my flight to Mexico City very seriously. Satisfied, he nods.

‘You know I’m never one to miss a sunset,’ he grins.

Cutting the engine, he climbs out of the Land Rover as I unhook Harry’s lead from inside the door and clip it to his collar. Then Ben reaches for my hand and together we weave our way through the village lit with twinkling Christmas lights, past the shops and the beery warmth of the pub, its windows decorated with tinsel, to the top of the lane, where it meets the open fields and you can see right across the stone rooftops and spires of woodsmoke to the Dales. It’s almost the winter solstice and we’re fast losing the light and, with it, the temperature, and Ben pulls me closer. We climb higher. The conversation between us is circling and swooping like starlings at dusk, both of us avoiding any of the big stuff.

‘So we all go through the same stages, but the journey’s different for everyone,’ I finish, my breath coming out in little white clouds. I’ve been telling him about the theory of the seven stages, but by the confused look on Ben’s face, I’m not doing a very good job. ‘Sorry, I’m not explaining this very well, am I?’ I apologize.

He frowns. ‘So, wait a minute. What happens after stage seven?’

I shrug. ‘You get to start the rest of your life.’

There was a time when I couldn’t imagine a future. I didn’t believe I had one. So I stopped looking and concentrated on just putting one foot in front of the other. When I first got Harry he was pretty much the only reason I got out of bed in the morning.

But so much has changed since that morning when I slipped on his lead and we both took our first tentative steps into our new lives. I’ve found friendship where I never expected to find it and a sense of belonging that feels like coming home. And I’ve learned so much. About faith and trust and patience and resilience; about living in the moment and having fun; and the simple wonder of a new day and the promise of another walk.