James was waiting for her at the pier with the ferry tickets in his hand and took her arm as they negotiated the floating dock that gave access to the ferry. The little steamer was called the Cheshire and was the first, he told her, to boast a saloon.

He suggested that she might like to sit inside, but she refused and stood on deck watching the skyline of Liverpool retreat. The wind whipped colour into her cheeks and she longed to undo her hair and let it blow free. James was worried that she would get cold, but she told him that she found it exhilarating.

From the landing stage on the Birkenhead side of the river they took a horse-drawn tram, which put them down in front of an imposing gateway, a huge arch surmounted by an elaborate pediment and flanked by pillars. Men and women were going through it, some with children, others with dogs on leashes, but May was glad that she was with James. She would have been afraid to go in alone in case she got lost.

Once inside she forgot her nervousness. Princes Park had been a source of wonder, but then her attention had been on following Angel and her nurse. Now, able to give her whole mind to her surroundings, she found herself in what seemed to her an earthly paradise. There were flower beds full of spring flowers, set out in patterns that made her itch for her sketchbook. There were bushes bright with exotic blooms and a lake that reflected the vivid colours of a quaint covered bridge. There were swans and ducks with strings of ducklings in tow and everywhere the sound of birdsong. They walked and walked and every turn brought into view a new wonder.

‘Aren’t you tired?’ James asked, but she shook her head.

‘I could walk for ever here,’ she said.

He laughed. ‘Well, I can’t and we shall have to go back soon. Once the sun goes down it will be cold.’

Reluctantly she allowed him to lead her back towards the tram and the ferry. As they boarded, James raised his hat to a middle-aged couple standing on the deck, but he did not introduce her.

‘Who was that?’ she asked.

‘Oh, just an extremely tedious couple who are acquaintances of my mother. We don’t want to be saddled with their company.’

He was right about the temperature, and she was glad to accept his suggestion that they sit in the saloon.

‘I don’t think I need to ask if you enjoyed yourself,’ he said. She met his eyes and there was a warmth in their blue depths that made her heart swell. ‘You have shown me so many lovely things – the concert, the Christmas carols – but I think this was the best of all. Thank you.’