‘Oh, Jim . . .’ There was a thump of guilt in her stomach – what right did she have to feel low? ‘You always seem so . . .’

‘Happy? Joyful?’ he sniffed. ‘What’s the alternative, Mrs T?’

‘I guess you’re right.’ The words were easy, but her sadness seemed to sneak up and catch her unawares.

‘I am right, and if losing her has taught me one thing, it’s that you need to value every single day.’ He handed her the bundle of cards. ‘Happy birthday.’

‘Thank you.’ Bess’s gaze danced over the postmarks. ‘I think she was very lucky, Jim, your wife, to have someone who felt that way about her and who misses her so.’

‘Oh no.’ Jim wiped his face and coughed. ‘It was me that was the lucky one. She was absolutely smashing.’

His words, so sincerely offered, took her breath away, and she was almost jealous of this woman who had lost her life so young.

Out on the street again, Jim called out a cheery ‘Morning, guv’nor!’ to whichever neighbour he had spotted next. Closing the door, Bess felt a jolt of affection for this man, who seemingly made it his mission to brighten everyone’s day.

Mario jogged down the stairs in his pants and long-sleeved T-shirt, with his zip-up top in his hand. ‘Have you washed my work trousers?’ he asked.

She looked up at him and blinked. ‘Do you think I’m smashing, Mario?’

‘What?’

‘Do you think I’m smashing?’

‘Smashing?’ He narrowed his lips and seemed to consider this. ‘I think we have a lot of smashing history. A lot of smashing memories.’ He made his way to the kitchen and the back of the kitchen chair, where his washed and dried work trousers awaited.

‘But it’s not the same, is it?’ She followed and watched him wrestle with the bulky bottoms with the padded knees that made plastering in cold empty houses a little kinder on his body.

‘No, it’s not the same, Bess.’ He held her gaze briefly before looking away, a little embarrassed, as if aware of the impact of his response. And while not a surprise to hear, her heart nevertheless sank at the confirmation. ‘But there we are. See you tonight. I’ll go to the chip shop after work. Shall I call you when I get there to see who wants what?’

‘No, Mario, it’s easier if I text you with who’s here and what everyone wants, surely?’

‘Yep, surely.’ He gave the hint of a smile, which disappeared as quickly as it had flashed. ‘Enjoy your birthday, Bess.’ He held her gaze for a moment before grabbing his flask and sandwich box from the kitchen table.

‘I will, and maybe my card might turn up!’

‘Maybe it will,’ he said, without looking back.

‘Do you have cash?’ she asked. ‘They don’t take cards at the chippy.’