‘Yeah. The last chance saloon.’

‘I’m rooting for you, Gems. You deserve it.’

‘Since when did deserving something make it more likely to happen?’

Charlotte’s eyes pop open, full of panic until she recognizes her mother and her little fingers reach up to touch her face. ‘Are you going to tell Dan?’ Laura asks.

‘I want to. It doesn’t seem fair to keep this bloody great secret from him.’

‘When?’

‘Tomorrow, possibly. We’re seeing each other at his place. His very, very expensive place.’

‘You could wait,’ Laura says. ‘Honesty is the best policy, et cetera, but you’ll know for sure in a week if it’s even relevant. We hope everything’s going to work out, but if things don’t, perhaps having someone to take your mind off it wouldn’t be the worst thing. Something tells me he’s much more fling material, anyway.’

I turn away, not wanting to think about the FET not working out. Or Dan being just a fling.

Behind Laura, our parents are tidying up the picnic rubbish. I check my watch: almost six o’clock already. By the time I get back it’ll be time for my jab.

‘We’re heading off,’ Dad says. ‘Your mother can’t miss Pointless. I don’t know why I even bother trying to compete with Richard Osman.’

‘It is a lost cause,’ I agree. Although Mum wouldn’t survive ten seconds without my dad. He is the glue that holds our family together.

‘This new friend of yours . . .’ he says, when we’re close enough that no one else can hear.

‘Don’t, Dad. Laura has already warned me off.’

‘What makes you think I’d be warning you off?’

I try to read his face. ‘You’re not?’

He winks. ‘I think I could like him.’

‘Wow, I didn’t think you would. He’s very different from Andrew.’

‘Well, that’s not the worst thing in the world. Losing him has changed you.’

‘Aged me, more like.’

‘Wait till you’re past sixty before you talk about old age. We loved Andrew, but we’ll also love anyone who makes you happy again.’

I exhale. ‘The timing sucks, though, right?’

Dad doesn’t break eye contact with me. ‘Listen, Little Gem. How often do I impart words of fatherly wisdom?’

‘Rarely. So don’t start now.’

‘There’s no such thing as bad timing. We’ve seen you grieving for the last eighteen months. It was like . . . a frost in a lovely garden. In the middle of winter you can’t believe that the earth will ever be warm, or that flowers will bloom again. But as soon as the sun starts to shine, life comes back. Grass, buds, flowers. All at once.’

‘Huh?’

‘You understand what I’m saying.’

‘Something about gardening?’

Dad laughs. ‘That’s right. Something about gardening.’

‘Steve, can we go? Alexander and Richard are waiting for me,’ Mum says, with a wink.

‘So the party’s over already?’ my sister says, pulling a face. Mel folds the picnic blanket, loads a squirming Felix into his buggy.

Bear drags his back paws as we begin the procession back towards the car park, making grooves in the sand. What did Casey say? Best day ever.