I thought of Kath and George and Gentleman and dipped my head slightly, which could have meant anything, but I hoped it would mean something. I wished it could mean everything.

‘But when I woke up lying on the road with all those upside-down faces looking at me, and every inch of my body hurting like nothing I’ve ever felt before, you know what I really felt? Not the pain. It was relief. Nothing had changed, everything was still shit, but now I knew.’

Lou put her head back and took a deep breath, then let it out through her mouth in a long, slow, continuous hiss, like a tyre going down. Now I knew.

‘I remembered something last week when I was lying in bed listening to Dom and George upstairs in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. George was singing away at the top of his voice and it brought back a memory I haven’t thought of in years. When Wolfie was little, she was always making up songs, and one day when I was passing her room, she was pushing one of her dolls in a swing she’d made out of an old clothes airer and singing. She didn’t even know I was there, but while I was listening to her I thought, I’m going to remember this moment for the rest of my life.’

Lou was staring at a point over my shoulder and frowning like she was concentrating really hard. Then she started to half speak, half sing in a low-pitched, unsteady voice.

It’s OK, it’s so good, everything is fantastic

It’s wonderful and lovely, everything is fantastic

It’s OK to go high, don’t be frightened of the sky

Just smile and hold on and everything is fantastic.

‘Isn’t that amazing, Danny? She was only about three years old. How could I have forgotten that?’ A single tear took its shot and dive-bombed on to the ground. ‘So then I started thinking, well, maybe it is true, like Wolfie said. Maybe everything really can be wonderful and fantastic if you just hold on. Because look. Here you are.’

I stared into the shadows of my shed at the wisteria in the jam jar and I thought, I’m going to remember this moment for the rest of my life.

Lou limped back over to her chair. ‘The thing is, Danny, I don’t think I’ve ever really let myself think about Mum’s death. Not properly. I mean, I was so young, and I just . . . I didn’t know how to feel, really. You and Dad were . . . Well, we had our own way of getting through it, I guess, and I think maybe mine was to just stop thinking about her.’ She hesitated then squinted, like she was trying to see something very far away. ‘And after a while I kind of stopped missing her.’

She paused again, this time for much longer, and I wondered if I was ever going to be able to form a sentence again. ‘Then one day, so many years later, I remembered something that made everything else make sense in a weird kind of way. You know?’ I didn’t, but it was clear I was going to find out.