I’m no longer so sure of that. I think of Nick, filming today, and how at ease I felt, how passionate about the project – our project. How I try not to think about him returning to New Zealand because, well, I am kind of liking him being around.

My phone pings, and I grab it, half expecting it to be Nick with some further suggestion or comment about the film he’s making, or the show. But in fact – mild disappointment – it’s Andy, suggesting that perhaps he should buy us a new lawnmower: It really is on its last legs, Viv.

I don’t need him to assess its condition, I decide. I can buy a new mower as and when I need one, and I can mow my own lawn. I can mow it just as well as he did and he’ll see, next time I do it. But, actually, I can’t help feeling touched by his thoughtfulness. And as I text, Okay, thanks, it occurs to me, shockingly, that the man who once called me amphibious, and refused to buy ice cubes for his daughter’s party, is actually capable of being kind.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Sunday, November 17

I called Nick mid-morning to see if Penny was home yet but no, she had yet to reappear. It felt like checking up on a teenager, and I reminded myself that she’s a grown woman who, naturally, wants to spend time with her boyfriend without being hassled by her friends. Never mind that I am now burning to tell her about our project. Specifically, I’d hoped she would agree to come along today and meet our prospective models for the show. But, for now, being in possession of a mobile phone that she refuses to ever turn on, she is uncontactable. So I set out to the museum alone.