I’m not sure whether it’s beginner’s bad luck or a severe case of nerves, but it soon becomes humiliatingly apparent that I am utterly hopeless at Frisbee golf. After joking to Tui that I will probably lob my disc into the surrounding trees, I end up doing exactly that on more than one occasion during the first half of the game, and each time Tui finds my shambolic display hilarious. She is arguably no better than I am when it comes to technique, but unlike me, she has the benefit of Kit’s guiding arms and gentle encouragement. Allie and Griff grow in confidence the further around the course we go, whereas the opposite is true for me. No matter what angle I bend my arm or which direction I throw the Frisbee, it stubbornly falls way short of the net. In fact, I’m so far behind the others by the time we reach the fifteenth target that they simply stop bothering to keep my score. As someone who regularly annihilates Billy at pool and never scores less than a spare at the bowling alley, my ineptitude cuts a deep wound in my ego, leaving me with no choice but to laugh uproariously at myself every time I miss. Which is every single time.

Kit is sympathetic to a point, but he’s also amused by how useless I am. Griff, on the other hand, is positively angelic, going into raptures every time I get my little blue disc within ten feet of the net and berating his sister every time she makes a sarcastic remark. After showing such an interest in me at the start of the game, Tui hasn’t said much else, preferring instead to stay close to Kit and pick up stones and leaves off the ground.

Beavis watches the four of us with his little head on one side, puzzled as dogs so often are by the seemingly random behaviour of their human companions. David had suggested that we get a puppy about six months after Anna’s accident, and I had not reacted well. It felt like such an obvious tactic, and in my head, he wasn’t giving my grief the right amount of respect. How could he think that a pet would make up for losing a parent and my cherished horse? I had yelled at him and slammed doors and spewed forth a whole range of venomous retorts, but remembering that vile tantrum now makes me wince. David may have needed something new to love, too, and I should have factored in his sorrow. But I wasn’t able to see past my own.