‘My husband is called Jack too,’ I tell her, feeling warmth in my belly that calms me down at the coincidence. ‘I’ve spent far too long wasting time on wondering “what if”. In fact, I came here to put some of my history to bed. I’m Charlotte, by the way.’

I reach out and shake the lady’s woollen gloved hand.

‘Peggy,’ she says to me. She’s in her late seventies, I’d guess, and her hair is covered in a bottle-green neck scarf tied round her chin. When I study her face I see lines that I know could tell tales that would make us all sit up and listen.

‘Imagine if all the time you spent wondering “what if” had been spent on looking at what you already have, instead of what you haven’t got,’ says Peggy.

I straighten out the note from Tom and look at the words he wrote to me not too long ago. Another me would take the chance, thinking this was a message of fate. I don’t know why, but I hand it to the lady beside me to show her what it says.

‘This man is Tom? You said your husband’s name is Jack?’ she says, handing it back to me. Bouncer barks again at the sound of his old master’s name. ‘You still have a choice, you know, Charlotte. No matter how long you feel you have travelled in the wrong direction, you still have the choice to turn around. It’s all up to you.’

I put the piece of paper back into my handbag and stand up, then let out a deep breath that comes from the tips of my toes. I yawn and cover my mouth with the back of my hand.

‘I’m going to find a bed for the night,’ I say to Peggy. ‘Thanks for your words of wisdom and for your company. Oh, and sorry for sitting on Jack’s bench.’

I say this to the dog and playfully ruffle his hair. He looks up at me with big sad black eyes, telling me that even though Jack’s wife is trying her best to move on with her loss, they both still have a long way to go.

‘I’m sure my Jack and I aren’t the only lovers who sat on this bench watching the world go by and filling our hearts with hopes and dreams,’ she says, with a twinkle in her eye. ‘Maybe you sat here too with him?’

I bite my lip. I did, of course.

‘I sat here with Tom three years ago,’ I confess to her. ‘It’s probably why I wanted to sit here again tonight, just to make totally sure I’m ready to let him go.’