Her brow furrows as she seems to consider my options. Today she is wearing a navy dress patterned with white daisies, which is attracting looks in the park and is immensely cheering. ‘When does school go back?’ she asks.

‘Um, mid-August. Why?’

‘Well, I always think that lollipop man at the end of your street’s very handsome …’

‘What?’ I splutter.

She grins. ‘Well, don’t you?’

‘Pen, I’m not going to get off with the lollipop man. He must be well into his seventies!’

‘Don’t be so ageist,’ she teases. ‘He’s in excellent shape, and he’s friendly and helpful …’

‘“Friendly and helpful”.’ I pretend to consider this. ‘Are these the characteristics I should be looking for in a boyfriend?’

She arches a brow. ‘Well, he seems obliging—’

‘Especially if I need help crossing the road.’ I smirk and turn to the girls. ‘Are you two ready for ice creams?’

‘Yeah!’ they yell, charging towards us. We head for the van and, armed with our vanilla cones, we wander a little further towards the lake. It’s a warm, hazy summer’s afternoon, and the grassy expanse is dotted with families and couples, sprawling groups of teenagers and dog walkers, all drawn to the park by the beautiful day. There are picnics and games of frisbee in progress. The girls crouch at the water’s edge, watching the ducks.

‘Okay. What about Nick, then?’ Penny asks.

‘Nick?’ I blink at her.

She smiles and licks her ice cream. ‘Yep, I think he’d be perfect for you.’

‘You mean your Nick?’ I say, almost choking. ‘Oh, sure. Between him and the lollipop man—’

‘Actually,’ she cuts in, deadpan, ‘I’m being serious now. I think you’d like him, and I’m sure he’d like you.’

I stare at her for a moment, realising that she really means this as a genuine suggestion. ‘But … he lives in New Zealand,’ I start.

‘Yes, but he’s coming over on a visit,’ she says with a smile.

‘Great. Lovely! But that’s not really the point. It would just feel too weird—’

‘Why?’ she asks, seemingly genuinely baffled. ‘He’s a lovely man, and as far as I know he’s single just now …’

‘Penny, that’s an insane suggestion,’ I exclaim.

‘I don’t see the problem—’

‘He’s your son!’

She actually looks hurt. ‘Yes, I’m aware of that. I was thinking you’d view that as a positive, not a reason to discount him straight off.’

‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ I say quickly. ‘I’m sure he’s wonderful. It’s just …’ I pause, trying to find the right way of putting it. ‘It would just feel so wrong.’

She looks baffled. ‘I don’t see why.’

‘Because … you’re my friend. Because you know what an emotional mess I am, and surely you wouldn’t want him involving himself with someone like me …’