“Oh, that’s lovely,” she said, propping it on top of the cereal boxes so that she could look at it while she stirred her pan of onions. “It’s very sweet! You ought to have that up somewhere, Robert.”

I tried to see it as she saw it; as it was meant to be seen, when my parents bought it from the booth. Dad tried, too. He said, “Perhaps . . .”

I chose a different one—Mum and Stella making sandcastles in Cromer—and Dad said it was OK for me to have it.

I went out after we’d eaten and washed up. Dad and Zoë were settling down to watch the news, but I was too excited to join them, and definitely too excited to go to bed. There was a sting in the January air, and the pavements rang crisply under my shoes. Since there was nowhere in particular that I wanted to be, I headed for the park. I walked quickly because it was cold and I hadn’t brought a hat and scarf, and because the faster I went, the more I could fill my head with the sounds of my own footsteps.

My thoughts wandered, circled, slowed—hovered over Byrne Hall like a seabird readying itself to dive. I quickened my pace till I was almost running, and I remembered I had a phone call to make. I slowed down and fished in my pocket for my mobile. Maggie had rung this afternoon when I was queuing at the bank, and I’d promised to call her back.

“Freya!”

“Hi Maggie! Is this a good time?”

We talked for a while about obvious things: her work, and my new job—“I wanted to wish you luck for your big move tomorrow,” she said. “I meant to send you a card . . .” And about Dad and Zoë, and Maggie’s forthcoming holiday, and her sister’s wedding in Scotland. We’d talked about all these things before.

“Well,” I said, when we were running out of topics. I was nearing the park now; I could just make out the sharp tips of the railings and the indistinct masses of the trees. “I suppose I ought to go . . .”

“I popped in to see Diana today,” Maggie said.

“Oh, right.”

“It’s amazing, the way she clings to life, although I don’t think she has much longer now. The nurse I spoke to reckoned a couple of days.”

I stopped inside the entrance.

“I see.”

The sweat started cooling on my skin, and I shivered.

“Maggie? Will you do something for me?”

“Sure . . .”

“Will you let me know when she does die? I’d like to know.”

“Sure, I can do that.” Maggie sounded faintly surprised. “No problem.”

“Thanks.”