The eggs are cooked at last, and I take the pan across to my plate and scrape the contents unceremoniously on to the cold toast. Hayley and I continue to talk as I eat, her chatting loudly to mask the sound of my chewing. She’s seen David, she tells me – they bumped into each other in the Co-op.

I know I should really be calling my adoptive dad every day while I’m here, but for some reason, I don’t feel ready to share the details of my Frisbee golf game with Kit, Tui and the others with him yet. For a few precious hours, as the five of us sweated and laughed our way around Queenstown Gardens, the coal-dust blackness in my heart was swept away into the corners. The memories of Anna were still there, of course, but they didn’t feel as all-consuming as they usually did, and because I was not with anyone who knew me, or anything at all about Anna’s accident, thoughts of her had receded quite naturally to the back of my mind for once. That was yesterday, though, and with each breath, that gloom is stealing back through me. I may be pretending to Hayley that everything is more or less fine – even joking around with her about Kit – but the truth is, I feel like I’m on the edge of an emotional precipice.

‘So, what are you up to today, then?’ Hayley asks, as I finish the last of my meal.

‘Probably just go for another wander around,’ I say vaguely. ‘Maybe book a skydive.’

‘Funny,’ she deadpans. Then, so quietly that at first I think I may have misheard her, ‘You could always go back to the stables, you know.’

The first time I headed out here to Paradise Valley, I at least had a purpose for coming. This time my reason is simply that I have a very persuasive best friend, one who pointed out to me that getting to know my new half-sister better was the only thing that really made sense. It certainly made more sense than jumping out of a plane, even though, as I laughingly informed her, I was definitely not serious when I suggested that.

Hayley wasn’t wrong, but now that I’m back here, facing the gate with the long stony driveway beyond it, I realise that I need a different excuse for anyone I might encounter at the yard. I can’t very well roll up and tell the truth – but where does that leave me? With a lie, and I hate lying, even when I have no choice.

Deciding to leave it up to chance, I push through the trees and make my way towards the office to the right of the main yard. Perhaps I can pretend to have lost my purse and have come back to see if it’s here? That feels plausible … ish.