I want to look nice today. I want Anna to think well of me. I don’t want her to be disappointed in how I’ve turned out. But I also need to subliminally state my connection to Mum, to show, in some small, unspoken, sartorial way, that she’s still with me, she’s still my mother and I’m still her daughter. Wearing this dress satisfies both of those needs.

I look at my watch. Ten to midday. I glance down the promenade. It’s fairly busy. It’s a Saturday lunchtime, so the restaurant terraces are full. Couples and their kids are strolling by the lake, ice creams in hands; some people are swimming in the water, or sunbathing on the grass down the end of the promenade, under willow trees. It’s like any other day, for them. But for me it’s a threshold, a turning point. However, unlike the other one, back in London with Dad when we went to give blood, this one I’m walking into with my eyes open. I know what I’m doing – even though I don’t know if I want to do it.

I didn’t think I’d recognise her. But when I see her, I know her instantly. She’s standing by the wall near the cafe. She’s wearing a mid-length navy skirt and a white sleeveless shirt, with flat red sandals. Her eyes are covered by large tortoiseshell sunglasses and she’s carrying a small red leather handbag over one shoulder that she keeps hoisting up, as though it’s heavy, but it’s so small that I doubt it. She’s nervous, that’s what it is. The realisation relieves my own nerves a little.

I stand up. Smooth down my dress. Take a sip of water from the bottle I’m carrying, hoping it will settle my troubled stomach. I think of Mum, the last time I saw her, just before her trip to Turkey.

See you soon, darling. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!

Would you do this, Mum? I think now. Are you okay with me doing this? I wish I had her blessing. I wish she could tell me that it’s okay to meet the woman who gave birth to me. I debate turning around and walking to the train station and going back to Julia’s. I could pack my things and be out of there that afternoon. A short flight and I could be with Dad, back trying to pretend this whole thing didn’t happen. I take another sip of water and it’s while I’m tightening the cap on the bottle that she looks directly at me and then I know the decision has been made for me.