Tui finishes her ice cream first and bounds off towards a park, which is set on a grassy lawn not far from the wall on which Kit and I are still sitting. Once satisfied that she is staying within range, Kit starts to relax, swinging his legs round to face inland and crossing his feet over at the ankle.

‘She’s in her element, that little monkey,’ he remarks, watching as Tui clambers untidily up a slide that has been built over the structure of an elephant. The park has been designed with the Victoriana steampunk theme in mind, and as well as the strange elephant slide, there’s a vast penny-farthing swing set and a roundabout adorned with disembodied horse heads. Oamaru has a very different feel to Queenstown, which is all bustle and noise. With the exception of the sea and the vibrant purple lupins sitting in clusters along the shore, the palette here is mostly greys, greens and muted variations of beige.

‘She’s an amazing girl,’ I say, not for the first time, and Kit smiles.

‘Yeah, she certainly is. And she really likes you, you know? I meant what I said about you being good with her. It usually takes Tui time to trust new people, but there’s a bond between the two of you – I reckon it’s been there right from the start.’

I don’t trust my voice not to wobble, so instead I simply nod.

‘Maybe it’s an only-child thing,’ he muses. ‘You, me and Tui all have that in common, hey?’

Not any more, I think.

‘Do you want children?’ I’m amazed to hear myself ask. ‘Sorry, I mean – that’s probably none of my business.’

‘That’s all right,’ he says easily, popping the last piece of his ice cream cone into his mouth and allowing himself a moment to chew. ‘I guess the honest answer is that I don’t know. I know I should – I’m gonna be thirty-five next year, and I know Allie is pretty keen on the idea of having a few ankle-biters about the place one day, but I’m not sure if that’s the next step for me just yet, you know?’

‘I think I do know,’ I say, watching Tui emerge from the bottom of another slide. This one is higher and curled around some sort of pyramid-shaped structure made from scaffold poles. ‘I’m not sure if I want any either.’

‘Is that because you lost your mum?’ he guesses, only to quickly apologise when he takes in the expression on my face.

‘Don’t worry,’ I assure him, chewing my lip. ‘It’s not that. I don’t think I have ever really wanted kids, but I never haven’t wanted them, if that makes any sense? Maybe I’m just not the maternal type.’