And it was delicious. The three of us ate Jackson’s Japanese curry with the heat of the day wearing off outside, and Stan sleeping in his basket. When Scout had finished her first curry and gone off to her room, Jackson and I smiled at each other.

‘You’re sleeping rough, Jackson?’

He laughed.

‘Purely temporary. And what about you? Anybody else coming home?’

I shook my head.

‘It’s just us,’ I said. ‘Me and Scout. This is it.’

His big wide smile. Then it slowly faded. ‘What happened, Max?’

I wasn’t sure if I could explain it to him, or even to myself.

‘I met a girl, and we fell in love, and then we had a baby, and it was the most beautiful baby in the world. And then things were harder than we ever thought they would be. No money. Her career stalled. My job was all hours and maybe sometimes I was too wrapped up in it. And this girl, Jackson – she was a beauty.’

‘What’s her name?’

‘Anne,’ I said, and I wondered if I would ever be able to say that one little name without a stab of pain. ‘And she met someone else. A good-looking guy with plenty of money.’

‘Nothing like you then?’

‘Nothing like me. She fell in love.’ I paused. This next bit was tough to talk about. ‘And got pregnant with his kid. Walked out on us. Now she’s got a new life, got a new family – and me and Scout, we had to get on with it, too. And we did.’

‘This Anne – she still see the kid?’

‘On and off. It’s patchy, to be honest. She’s busy with this new life. Happens all the time.’

‘Yes, it does. But it’s still hard.’

‘It’s actually not that hard because Scout is the best thing that ever happened to me, Jackson. And because it feels like everybody we know is rooting for us.’ I thought of Mrs Murphy. I thought of Miss Davies. And I thought of Edie Wren, who could talk to Scout more naturally than anyone in the world.

‘Lot of support,’ Jackson said.

‘We’re doing all right,’ I said.

The cardboard folder that Scout had brought home was on the dinner table. Jackson leafed through it.

‘What about you?’ I said. ‘Wife? Kids?’ I remembered how much girls had liked him. For his looks, and for his wildness, and for his lack of fear.

He shook his head.

‘Not me,’ he smiled, as if the thought had never even crossed his mind, and when he rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn, I saw how exhausted he was. ‘I’ve been too busy feeding the British Army.’

‘You’re worn out,’ I said. ‘Come on.’