‘Lou, I—’

‘Wait, Danny. Hang on a sec.’ She sat up straight and her face was full of life. ‘That day you’re talking about, after the fight with Joe Fletcher, did you make me a Hobnob Happy Pie?’

I hadn’t thought of our famous family cure-all concoction of biscuits, ice cream, chocolate syrup and bananas – which got an airing for special occasions, broken limbs or bad days at school – for years, but now my mouth was almost watering at the memory.

‘Um, yeah, maybe. Actually, yes. I think I was bribing you not to tell Mum and Dad I’d let you run off.’

Lou’s burst of laughter hit me like a whip crack.

‘Oh my god, Danny. I absolutely remember that day. It was just you and me on our own for hours, wasn’t it? Dad was at work, Mum was in bed, you made me pancakes for breakfast, and then played Barbie with me until that Joe Fletcher kid came over.’ Lou talked fast, like she needed to get the memory out before it disappeared again. ‘I remember you two yelling at each other in the street and then . . . wait.’ She paused, trying to catch hold of something on its way through. ‘Did I . . . did I call him something bad?’

‘Dumb bum glass hole, or words to that effect, I believe. Quite insightful as it turned out.’ I wanted Lou to laugh again, but she didn’t.

‘Hobnob Happy Pies. God, Danny, I’d totally forgotten about them. Remember Mum used to say they were magical? That whatever the world threw at you would just bounce off if you had a Hobnob Happy Pie inside you?’

I had a sudden vision of my mother and Lou driving along the M25 in the rain eating Hobnob Happy Pies, and I wondered if it would have made a difference.

‘It’s weird, though, I don’t remember running off.’

‘Yeah, well, apparently you were on your way to buy me a new cricket ball.’

‘What? Was I?’ Lou’s sharp tone made me look up, and she was staring at me with an odd expression.

‘Well, that’s what you told me. You probably would have bloody found one too if I hadn’t caught up with you.’

‘Yeah, well, I think we all knew how much you loved your cricket.’ Lou closed her eyes for just a little bit too long for a blink, but when she opened them again whatever that look had been was gone, and she laughed.

‘Mad for it, weren’t you?’

‘Bonkers.’ I laughed too, at the seriousness of youth and how something as small as a cricket ball can carry so much weight when you’re a kid. But I didn’t care, because at that moment it felt wonderfully and brilliantly close to banter.

‘It’s funny the things we remember, isn’t it? And the things we forget.’

Lou shook her head slowly, like it really was merely an amusement that we could have such different memories of the same day. Not something to hang your hat on; almost your entire life on.