I reach out and squeeze her arm, comfortingly. ‘It’s fine, really. I rarely think about it these days. I’ve learnt to accept that some things in life are outside of our control, even though they still influence the way we live our lives. I shared my secret with you because I want you to know that I’m here if there’s anything you ever want to share with me.’

She looks at me with tears in her eyes and I lean in to throw my arms around her shoulders.

‘I don’t know how you knew, but when I’m ready… I’d like that.’

The sound of voices draws our attention to the trees beyond the allotment. The fishing party is returning.

‘Are you taking the art class this afternoon?’ Kellie asks.

‘Yes. You?’

‘I might have the afternoon off and head down to the orchard to read a book. It’s one I picked up in the day room last night and I stayed up till midnight because I couldn’t put it down.’

‘What’s it about?’

‘A woman whose life is rather messed up and she runs away to start over again. It’s quite sad in parts, but there’s also a lot of humour. I can’t wait to find out how it ends. We’re all looking for that happily ever after, aren’t we?’

I thought I had mine and I hope when I return home the new reality won’t have changed that.

‘I guess we are,’ I reply, softly.

We stand, exchanging an empathetic smile as we part company. I feel I did the right thing confiding in Kellie; it was strange, though, hearing myself say the words because it’s been a long time since they passed my lips.

I traipse back to the courtyard in a little world of my own, startled when a hand touches my shoulder. I turn to see it’s John. He’s the joker of the group and a Londoner.

‘You whipped your painting away yesterday before I could get a look at it.’ He leaps forward to hold the studio door open for me.

‘Thanks, John. Well, it was my first ever attempt and a bit of a disaster. It’s in the bin, but I’m looking forward to today.’

‘Ha! Did you see mine? Couldn’t tell what was apples and what was pears.’

I start laughing. ‘Oh, I thought it was rather unique; Picasso eat your heart out.’

He tips his head back and laughs with gusto. ‘Ain’t put off, though. Never ’ad so much fun.’

‘What do you do for a living, John?’

We head up the stairs, walking side by side.