‘Not my place to know,’ was all Mrs D would say. ‘Now, get on with your food and stop asking silly questions.’

6

As Easter approached, a change came over the countryside and, although I kept a sharp eye out, we saw no repeat of Pa behaving strangely, so I began to feel a little more cheerful.

After weeks of rain and wind the weather settled and warmed. A gentle breeze carried the scent of blossom everywhere, bringing with it a new sense of optimism. It was difficult to worry or be miserable when every bird in the hedgerows seemed determined to out-sing its neighbours, and the churchyard was filled first with snowdrops and brilliant yellow aconites, followed by creamy primroses, cowslips and the white flowers of wild garlic that Mrs D brought in to flavour soups.

A few weeks later, the bluebells arrived.

Jimmy and I took the footpath into the woods and had walked only a couple of hundred yards when we topped a rise and found ourselves looking down into a wide glade on a south-facing slope. Both of us gaped: the woodland floor was a carpet of vivid, almost dazzling blue, striped with rays of sunshine, transforming it into an enchanted grove. The sound of birdsong was almost deafening.

‘Wha . . . what? Look,’ Jimmy stuttered, pointing.

‘Bluebells.’ I’d no idea they could look like this. ‘Can you smell them too?’

He rushed forward and began to pick the blooms. I pulled him back. ‘They don’t last if you pick them. Better to enjoy the sight of them growing in the ground. Let’s go on.’

The path led downwards through the sea of blue. Jimmy skipped ahead, and seeing him so happy lifted my heart. My eye was caught by a robin waiting on a low branch, probably hoping that our footsteps would turn up a juicy worm.

Its red breast glinted in a ray of sunshine. I was entranced. The only birds I’d ever been this close to before were the pigeons in Trafalgar Square, which were always so greedy and aggressive. This little fellow looked as though he was actually welcoming me to this beautiful wood, his home territory. It tilted its head and observed me with a single black eye, as though about to engage me in conversation.

‘Hello, my friend,’ I said quietly, but my voice alarmed him and he flew off. When I looked up, Jimmy was already far ahead, way down the slope. As I quickened my step he turned a corner and went out of sight.

‘C’mon, Jimmy, we’re not playing hide-and-seek today,’ I called, but there was no response. ‘I know you’re not far away, so stop being a clot. Come back.’