‘Yes, I left in May, ten years ago.’ I jogged on the spot as Vanessa stretched out her calves and limbered up her back. She leant down and touched her toes and I felt a pang of envy at the long thick red hair which skimmed her trainers.

‘Where in God’s name have you been? I thought you’d died.’ Her warm Irish directness mingled with the winter sun and sent a judder of contentment, if not happiness, through me. I swivelled my hips, skipped from side to side, and waited for her to straighten up again.

‘Australia. I came back for my dad’s funeral,’ I said as I joined in with the muscle stretching.

‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear about your dad, but it’s great to see you. There were all sorts of rumours when you left but let’s not get into those. I bet you’re sick of the gossip.’

We set off together, circuited the lake, and chatted about all the changes in the area, the unpredictability of the weather and bus lanes in Muswell Hill.

‘We’re like a couple of men, discussing the weather.’ Vanessa laughed before we grew silent from the exertion and fell into a steady rhythm side by side. It felt good to be in company and I realised how much I’d missed having some fun.

‘Where’re you living? You were in Crouch End?’ she asked. We had stopped for a breather on a park bench.

‘I’m in Jodi’s old flat over the deli in the High Street. Handy for pastries and cappuccinos. What about you?’

‘Living above the clothes shop. I couldn’t afford the commute so decided to live in. Did I see you at the gym the other day?’

‘Yes. I’ve started working out, trying to get fit again. Too many beers and barbecues in Darwin.’ We laughed and shared mundane chit-chat. Vanessa didn’t push me.

‘Perhaps we can go out one evening?’ she suggested. ‘I’m on my own again. Seamus left and disappeared when things got tough.’

She bent down to redo a shoelace. I sensed she didn’t want to explain but there was definitely comfort in a kindred failed relationship.

‘I’d like that. Pop round. I’ll give you my phone number when we finish.’

The lakeside was sparsely peopled with early morning dog walkers and young parents who had been up all night with colicky offspring. It was not yet nine when we reached the ‘Inn on the Park’.

‘Coffee? My treat,’ Vanessa asked as we slowed up.

The sky was cloudless and our breath made patterns in the frosty air but all at once the sun dipped behind the clouds and an icy spear stabbed at my heart. I couldn’t breathe; the pain intolerable. Vanessa panicked, told me to relax, take deep breaths and sit down.