A big fat teardrop had landed on the lens cap.

‘Sorry, sorry …’ she mumbled, choking on emotion. ‘It’s just so … Sorry.’ She tried clearing her throat and ended up having a coughing fit, resulting in Gareth having to pound her back three times and fetch her water. Which was so humiliating, but at least it was a diversion.

Eventually, when she’d gathered herself together, she was able to thank him properly and tell him what a brilliant present it was and to please thank Lana, though she would do it herself, of course, when she saw her next.

‘When will that be, by the way?’ asked Judith, glad of the change of subject.

‘Well, unless you catch her tomorrow, who knows?’ said Gareth with a laugh. ‘She promised she’s gonna make it down for New Year’s Eve after the show, but we all know what Lana’s promises are like.’

Two weeks previously, Lana had suddenly announced that she’d found herself a last-minute job in Guildford and would only manage a flying visit home at Christmas. Judith was aware there’d been a few heated phone calls between her and Gareth since. Understandably Gareth was hurt by Lana’s change of plans, but then Lana was incredibly ambitious – and she liked earning cash, so it all made sense on a practical level, just not on an emotional one. Judith secretly vowed to remain neutral in the whole thing – not so much because she didn’t want to take sides, but because she was worried that she would. And the last thing she wanted was to jeopardize her friendship. With either of them.

Once inside Griffin Park, she watched the sun heading for bed, its rays bathing all they touched in a diminishing tangerine light. It was a stunning evening. And here she was, alone, on Christmas Day, sitting on a swing in the deserted playground where she’d spent many hours as a child.

Cut the self-pity, Judith Harris, she said to herself, and reached inside her bag to take out her fabulous, deeply cherished camera. She’d already taken a few photos that morning – Catrin and Sol making Christmas pancakes and mess in the Kellys’ kitchen. She’d got a fabulous shot of them both, faces covered in flour and Cat in hysterics.

Over on the park railings, a robin was singing his heart out now, his chest all puffed out and brave. Judith smiled to herself as she lined him up in her viewfinder, zooming in tight on his bright little eyes and the magical violet line that ran between his red breast and brown feathered body. Click. She loved the sensation of pushing down on the chrome button and activating the shutter. She loved the sound and feel of the heavy, velvety action, as it slowly released beneath the pressure of her finger. And there it was. A moment captured in time, never to be revisited.

‘Judith?’

The voice startled her – so unexpected in the solitude of the empty park. And yet the ring of familiarity in its tone made her heart want to leap out from her chest.