His gaze followed mine and then he lowered it. “My wife has early onset dementia. She’s fifty-seven. She was diagnosed five years ago.”

My face fell. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He bowed his head. “Thanks. Although oddly it gets easier. It was hard at the beginning when she was very depressed and anxious.’ He closed his eyes briefly. “It’s harder for the people who love her now, but I hope it’s easier for her.”

The man’s phone beeped, and he took it from his pocket. He read what I assumed was a text, then looked up, squinting. “Do you know where the bank is?” His eyes flickered to somewhere over my shoulder.

I nodded. “I’m parked there myself. I’ll show you.”

We walked together up the street. He had an odd gait, his left leg seeming a little stiff, but it didn’t inhibit his progress. I had to work to keep up with him.

“Your wife,” I said tentatively. “It must be hard.”

“Ah sure, we all have our burdens to bear, don’t we?” he said brightly, although his eyes showed a pain he wasn’t expressing. “Meg has profound memory loss now, so little awareness of her surroundings, I think. We have no kids and she hasn’t recognized me for some time.” He took a deep breath. “But she’s in a great residential place now and she’s not distressed, which is the important thing as far as I’m concerned.”

We’d reached the corner. “The bank is just over there,” I said, pointing.

“Thank you.”

“I hope the cycle goes well. You certainly brought a bit of color to the town this afternoon.”

His mouth curled up into a smile. “The scourge of middle-aged men in Lycra.”

A woman in cycling shorts and a bright pink top crossed the square, the same woman who’d asked him for the spider tie. She waved and he waved back.

“And women,” I added. “You seem to have good numbers.”

He nodded. “We have. The charity is called the Jameson Grace Charity, so when someone spotted the “Amazing Grace” connection to this area and had the idea of doing something here, a cycle seemed to make sense. And it’s proved surprisingly popular.”

“Are you staying with Mary then, in the guesthouse?” I asked.

“We are. Just one night unfortunately. We’re due to leave early in the morning – about eight I think.” He glanced around him. “Seems like a nice place to spend some time.”

The square was looking well, with tulips and daffodils in pots and hanging baskets above some of the shop fronts.

I smiled. “You should try and get up for a visit sometime, when you don’t have to ship out so quickly.”