She made it just in time. Ezra was already in his coat, standing by the door, his backpack in his hand. It would be fair to say that he’d learnt to tolerate nursery, but he definitely didn’t love it, and as for making friends, he hadn’t managed to develop strong connections with any of the other children as yet. He didn’t seem to be interested, happier in his own little world, surrounded by his familiar things, with Sara in the background if he wanted company. Self-contained, that was how the nursery teacher had described him, and Sara didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. If she tried to organise play dates, he resisted, so she’d given up, hoping he’d get the hang of social interaction when he started school.

It was a lovely sunny day, quite warm for the end of April, and Sara had made them a picnic to take up onto the moors, which stretched for miles above the town. She felt the need for fresh air and exercise and knew that Ezra would sleep better for a good stomp around the boulders, where he liked to play hide-and-seek and look for little creatures. She’d sleep better too, she hoped, the planned outing as much for her benefit as his.

‘We’re nearly there, aren’t we, Mummy?’ Ezra said as they drove out of town and up the hill towards the moors. He wasn’t a good traveller, but as long as he knew where they were going, and looked out of the window, he seemed able to cope.

‘A few more minutes,’ Sara said as the hill steepened and the valley was laid out in her rear-view mirror. She felt her heart quicken as she turned a corner and the land fell away to her left, while the boulder-strewn moors rose up to her right, wild and rugged and inviting.

Although some people found the vast open space unnerving, the moors were one of her favourite places. She remembered coming up here as a child on the bus with her mum and Hailey. She’d been quite a tomboy when she was young, and had loved to run and explore and climb on the boulders. She’d enjoyed picking bilberries when they were in season, little explosions of flavour straight from the bush. Just thinking about them now, she could taste the sourness on her tongue.

The smell of peat and heather created an earthy mix that awakened so many happy memories, not just of her own early childhood, but also of coming up here with Matt when the children were little. The moors were a part of her, their wildness an expression of how she felt inside, even if her life was a bit more contained these days.