‘She loves this little horse. I’m just dreading the day she finally gets on the real thing! Then the proper worry starts.’ Ben gazed at Elodie as he spoke, his love for her coming off him in waves.

‘Yes, I bet.’ Charlotte smiled at Elodie. She was an adorable little girl, with her mother’s huge brown eyes and silky black hair. But unlike her mother, she wore a permanent smile that stretched from one side of her face to the other, showing milky white teeth.

‘Who dat?’ Elodie demanded, pointing at Charlotte rudely.

Ben laughed. ‘It’s Charlie.’

Elodie gaped at Charlotte with the unembarrassed stare that only toddlers are capable of. ‘Charlie,’ she said at last, seemingly delighted to have got her tongue around the word, before she resumed her rocking with renewed vigour, both Charlie and Ben apparently dismissed.

‘Shall we sit down?’ Ben motioned to a bench next to them.

Charlotte nodded and they both sat down. They watched Elodie in silence until Ben finally spoke: ‘So, how are things, Charlie? You look well.’

Charlotte smiled up at him and their eyes met, causing her heart to skip. ‘I’m fine. More to the point, how are you?’ Up close, she could see that he didn’t look good at all. Jo was right that he had a haunted air about him and he almost seemed to have caved in on himself. There was none of the old Ben twinkle that she used to love so much.

‘I’m fine.’ Ben’s eyes slid away from hers and returned to watching Elodie, but not before she had seen the threat of tears lurking. ‘I don’t know why they sent you to check up on me.’

Charlotte bit her lip, wondering whether to say what she had come here to say. ‘Nobody sent me, Ben. Not really. I volunteered. We’re all worried about you. No one ever sees you anymore and they all miss you, especially your mum.’

Ben flinched slightly at her words. ‘When did you see her?’ He stared into the distance as he spoke.

‘Last weekend. I went to stay with her, along with Matt, Freya and baby Bertie.’

Ben gave a sad smile, filled with longing. Charlotte could tell that he was wishing he had been there too. ‘How old is he?’

Charlotte felt a spike of irritation. ‘He’s 3 months old, Ben. How could you not know that? Matt is your oldest friend!’

Ben recoiled slightly at the harshness of her words and wrapped his arms around himself in a gesture that could either have been defensiveness or just to keep warm. Whatever it was, Charlotte’s antennae prickled. Why was he being so edgy? He gave a deep sigh. ‘It’s difficult to keep in contact.’

‘Is it?’ Charlotte shot back. ‘Why? All it takes is a phone-call? Or even a bloody text would do!’

Again, Ben recoiled physically at her words. He seemed so fearful and jumpy, which wasn’t like him at all. Something flickered at the edge of Charlotte’s brain. She had seen a man like this before, in this heightened state of alert, terrified in case he said or did the wrong thing.