‘I’ve seen you before. Find somewhere else, you perv, or I’ll call the police,’ the guy yelled through the glass.

Someone behind was telling him to make a note of my number plate. For my part, I was more concerned that I’d lose sight of Rebecca than I was of neighbourhood rage. She was already moving at a steady pace along the high street. I revved up the engine, did a full three hundred and sixty, and nearly knocked over my accuser as I sped off.

When I drew alongside Rebecca, I slowed, then drove on past. I kept a clear view of her in my rear-view mirror. As she wasn’t carrying a kitbag I guessed she would probably be going to the park. I decided to go straight there. I was right.

Twenty minutes later, she arrived with another woman, by which time I was out of the car and had taken cover amongst the cluster of trees by the entrance. It was not yet eight o’clock.

Early-morning health fanatics jogged in the crisp bright air. The only other people about were parents with buggies and restless children, all headed for the swings. I followed the trail to the playground from where there was a good view of the lake circuit, and sat down.

I’m good with children. They trust me. I planned for Rebecca and me to have a big family. Although we would have to start straight away. She wasn’t getting any younger and there was a great temptation to hurry things along. However, I knew the need for caution. Pressure wouldn’t work. Patience and intellect would.

I saw the two children first, a boy and a girl. Pretty little things full of energy. They belted through the gate towards me. The father was by himself and he looked vaguely familiar.

‘Hi. You’ve got your hands full.’ I smiled.

‘Yes indeed. I don’t know where they get their energy from. Their poor mother’s still asleep.’

I’ve always thought of myself as substantially masculine, nothing feminine about my characteristics, but this guy was enormous. He was a giant, his huge hands encased in monstrous woollen gloves. He wasn’t unpleasant looking but quite scarily large; front row of the scrum, I guessed.

‘You got kids?’

‘No not yet but we’re working on it.’

‘Changes your life. Certainly changed mine. You’re tied. No longer time to call your own,’ the man said as he pushed the boy with one hand and the girl with the other. ‘Don’t get much sleep either. My wife takes sleeping pills to knock herself out.’

It was then that I remembered the face. Golders Green, the pharmacy; a few years ago I’d bottled up the diazepam myself. There was nothing wrong with my memory.