‘I’ve been getting on with my parents,’ she said. ‘I have you to thank for that. My mum is a different person since she’s been spending time with yours.’

‘The vegetable project,’ Quinn said with a nod.

‘“Gardening their way through anxiety”,’ said Minnie, making air quotes with her free hand.

‘Yes, she told me about their blog project, it’s all she can talk about,’ Quinn smiled.

‘I can’t describe how much she’s changed, Quinn – it’s like she’s put down this sack of resentment she’s been carrying around for decades. And when she put it down, for some reason it made me feel so much lighter.’ Minnie shook her head. ‘I know it sounds ridiculous.’

‘It doesn’t,’ said Quinn.

‘I pitched this new business idea to Lucy Donohue last week, a way to get my pies funded again. She loved it; Lexon are going to sponsor the whole thing. We’ll cater for their staff canteens, and they’ll subsidise pies for people in the community.’

‘Lucy? Wow.’ Quinn gave a perplexed smile, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. Then he nodded, ‘Minnie, that’s great, I’m so impressed. Lucy’s got a great eye for business.’

‘I know you didn’t end things on the best terms with her,’ said Minnie.

‘I owe that woman a lot – I’ll always be grateful to her for dragging me to therapy in the first place.’

‘This year, turning thirty, I don’t know – I feel like I’ve finally been given the keys to my own car and I just want to drive. I’m happy to be me, and I’ve never felt like that before.’

Quinn took a loud, slow inhale. ‘And you’re not ready to take any passengers in this new car of yours. Especially not messed-up weirdoes who’d scuff the interior and play all the wrong music on the radio.’

Minnie looked over at him, biting her lip. ‘I don’t think so, I’m sorry.’

Quinn let his head fall backwards and looked up at the sky.

‘Not the weirdo bit, just the passenger part,’ she said.

They’d walked right to the bottom of the hill now. Barney’s van had been moved for the winter. A large square of dead grass was all that remained, like the chalk outline showing where a body had been.

‘We’ll still be friends?’ Minnie asked, her voice breaking slightly. ‘I would like you in my life, Quinn, and with our mothers hanging out so much now … ’

‘Sure,’ he said softly, though something in his voice made her think they would not.

‘How’s your mum doing?’

‘Good, actually. Better than she’s been in years. Your mum is incredible, she just bulldozes in and … Well, she’s managed to do in a few months what I failed to do in decades.’

‘You didn’t fail.’