“He only ever does that for you, you know.” Tomas jumped as Matylda walked into the hall. “He never misses you coming home, he’s been at the door for ten minutes.”

Tomas slid down to the floor and sat next to Fudge, placing the palms of his hands over his eyes. “I’ve got quite a bit of homework to do.” He took one hand away and played with Fudge’s ear. “So if you don’t mind, I’ll go up and get it finished before dinner.”

Matylda looked down at her son and sighed, “It will be ready in an hour.”

The lark sang and Tomas gazed up to see it ascending in the warm evening air. Swifts, or were they swallows, dipped and swooped, confirming summer had arrived, unexpected but welcome in the middle of winter. Tomas felt good. He stood in the fields behind their old house, where he and his father used to walk Fudge. The low sun bathed the heads of barley in a reddish light. Tomas imagined the field was the back of an enormous, sleeping lion. If he was gentle, he could stroke the soft fur and not wake the beast. He tilted his head back, letting the clean air flood into his lungs.

At the edge of his vision, someone moved. He turned and his heart hurtled into his ribs. Sky! She walked towards him in wonderful, slow motion; her hair bouncing off her shoulders and thin summer dress flowing around her body. The silky material clung to her hips. Tomas held his breath; he could clearly make out the curves of a young woman beneath. Feeling a twinge of guilt, he looked back at her face. She smiled and held out her hand. Tomas ached to take it, to touch her, to stroke the smooth skin of her face and put his arm around her brown shoulders. He tried to say something, but it didn’t seem necessary. Sky’s lips moved, but he couldn’t make out her words. But it didn’t matter. Nothing could be better than this. All he had to do was reach out, and she’d be his.