Bonnie pulls off her boots and socks and dangles her bare toes in the cool water, telling me a story about a film crew who flew a crowd of white stallions all the way over from America to shoot a dramatic scene for a movie, only for every single one of them to come to a stubborn halt at the river’s edge. They had learned not to enter water back in Florida because of alligators, and no amount of clever coercion would convince them otherwise. In the end, she explains, they had to paint some of the local horses white and use those instead.

I watch as Keith grazes his way half-heartedly through a patch of grass, his tail flicking away flies and his ears drooping contentedly to each side like those of a seaside donkey.

It is difficult not to study Bonnie’s face, to spend time scrutinising each of her features in turn. Some – like her eyes and heart-shaped hairline – are exactly the same as my own, while others are totally different. Her nose is larger and her lips fuller, but I notice that we both twirl our hair around a finger when we’re nervous.

‘You know, nobody ever suspected that I was adopted when I was growing up,’ I say, drawing Bonnie’s attention away from the merrily tumbling river. ‘I always thought that was weird, because to me I felt like it was obvious – as if I was wearing a badge or something.’

‘I felt the same way about being a mother,’ she says, tossing a pebble into the water. ‘I could never understand why nobody knew, why nobody worked it out. I think I probably resented my parents for not somehow seeing it, but they never did.’

‘What about Simon?’ I ask, and Bonnie turns to me in surprise.

‘You met him?’

I nod.

‘He knew I was hiding something, but he gave up asking eventually. He’s not a bad person – our relationship ended because I never gave it a chance. I know that.’

‘Don’t you ever get lonely?’ I want to know, but Bonnie laughs.

‘Hardly! I have Tui, and the horses. And Kit has been my live-in tenant for years now.’

At the mention of Kit, I feel a tightness spread across my chest.

‘I’m not very good at relationships,’ she continues, looking at me apologetically. ‘I guess I just don’t trust most of the men I meet.’

‘I’m not surprised – not after what Seth did. It must have been so hard for you at the time, finding out that a man like him could have fathered your baby.’

‘He was a shithead,’ Bonnie pronounces. ‘But what he did to Lavender was arguably worse than what he did to me.’

‘Good,’ I say firmly, but just as David did, Bonnie shakes her head.

‘I don’t hold a grudge against her. We were all so young.’