But it wasn’t only the kisses – it was the whole afternoon. When I’ve seen other families out and about on a Sunday afternoon I’ve thought how bloody tedious. To my surprise, today wasn’t tedious at all. It was . . . easy in all the right ways. After spending my whole life avoiding that kind of everyday closeness, now I can imagine days and weeks and months with Casey and Gemma at my side.

Out here, the sky turns crimson. Red sky at night, hustler’s delight, Dad used to say. He hated the idea of normal life, told me over and over again that we deserved more than that. But everything else he told me was a lie, so why wouldn’t that be too?

Maybe the ordinary can be extraordinary, if it’s something you’ve never tried before.

I sleep better than I have in years and the moment I wake up, I check my phone for a message from Gemma and, even though there isn’t one, the certainty that she will be in touch soon makes me leap out of bed.

Hello, Monday!

Everyone’s friendly at the hospital when I take Casey in. She even shows me the proton beam therapy room itself and although my tinnitus makes its presence felt, I stay calm by imagining that Gemma is talking me through it, breath by breath.

‘Don’t forget Bear visits my school this afternoon,’ Casey says. ‘If you come in early to pick me up, you might get to see Gemma again.’

Did Casey see us kissing? We were pretty preoccupied . . .

Back at the workshop, I keep a close eye on the time. Vijay’s back from Germany and we’re interviewing trainees for internships on three August festivals: in between, I have to stop myself telling him about Gemma. He’d only laugh: since when has ‘Dan the Man kisses a girl’ counted as breaking news?

After we’ve finished the interviews, we grab a coffee in my office, the thrum of the workshop quieter after we close the blinds.

‘Now that’s sorted, I’ve got another mission,’ Vijay says. ‘We’re getting very impatient about meeting Casey. Idoia especially. She thinks you’re ashamed of us.’

‘I do want to have you round, but things are tricky.’ I explain what I found at Angelica’s on Friday: how unloved the house was, and how isolated the two of them seem. ‘Now it’s just me and Casey at the flat, we’re getting closer, but I don’t know if she’s ready. It’s complicated.’

‘Not that complicated. We’re your family, and so is Casey. She’s going to be a part of your life, so she’ll be a part of ours too.’

Which is, of course, why I’ve avoided a meet-up. My friends have been banking on a happy ending, the kind I never thought I deserved. My original plan was to keep them away from Casey, so it’d be easier to tell them things hadn’t worked out when July ends.

But that plan seems stupid now. I want it all: Casey, Gemma, this new life. Except how can I make that work when I have told so many lies?