‘Well, I love making models and drawing things,’ I replied. ‘It’s actually my favourite thing to do. And that,’ I pointed at the shoebox, ‘is great. It looks like a computer.’

He looked at it for a moment. ‘I think it is a computer.’

‘Come on, Harry,’ said Kerry, walking past without stopping and causing my smile to drop and my stomach to somersault. ‘Let Edie get inside. And how many times have I told you not to run too far ahead? Hello, Edie,’ she added, with obvious reluctance, as she turned to walk up her path.

‘Hi,’ I said, peering through the latticed twigs and branches of the various bushes which marked the boundary between Giles’s front garden and her own.

‘Is Giles in?’ asked Harry hopefully.

I looked down at him. ‘Afraid not.’

His shoulders drooped in disappointment. ‘Oh. I wanted him to come for a play-date. Or I could come to your house.’

‘Harry. Now,’ said Kerry firmly.

‘I’ll ask him tomorrow,’ shouted Harry as he ran back out onto the pavement, up his path and into the house without stopping.

Kerry didn’t follow him inside, but instead looked after him before turning her head half towards me. ‘Is there anything you want to tell me?’ she asked quietly, her face largely obscured by the mesh of twigs and leaves. She looked, I thought, like a priest in a confessional.

‘Don’t be angry with Giles,’ I said. ‘None of this has anything to do with him.’

‘I meant,’ she said slowly, her voice uncharacteristically monotone, ‘is there anything you want to tell me about you and Ron?’

I shook my head. ‘No,’ I replied ‘there isn’t.’

She turned away and went to step inside.

‘Kerry.’

‘Yes?’

‘I hate confrontation and all this is making me so unhappy. I love my job and I just want to get on with it and the people I work with. I’ve always tried really, really hard to do that.’ I hesitated, aware that this might be my last opportunity to state some sort of case. ‘I’m honestly not a bad person,’ I concluded, somewhat desperately.

She paused for a moment on the threshold and lowered her head. ‘The thing is, Edie,’ she said, quietly, ‘in this situation, one of you has to be a bad person, and I know it’s not Ron.’

And with that, she disappeared inside, gently closing the front door behind her.

‘She thinks I’m a bad person, Giles.’ I finished my miserable account of the day with a despairing sniff, whilst dabbing at my eyes with one of Giles’s monogrammed hankies.