At first, Lucas just walked. He’d headed to one of the main parks, which were still fairly quiet; the early morning joggers had departed, and, apart from commuters walking briskly through on the way to work, there were few there to impede his rapid walking pace. Finally, he slowed and, remembering Harry’s words at the time his mother had died, sent him a brief text: ‘Problems. MAY be in later.’

Then he resumed his walk, but at a slightly slower pace. And at that point memories came flooding in. Things he’d tried hard to forget, things he thought he’d forgotten, different thoughts tumbling over each other, but, repeating itself as if on a loop, that of his father, conducting his mother’s funeral, saying that their one disappointment had been not to raise a family.

And now he’d received a message from his cousin Andy, saying, ‘Uncle in hospital. They’re not giving him long. Let me know what you want me to do.’

Spotting the kiosk, Lucas walked over and bought himself coffee and a doughnut, and tried to bring his breathing under control.

Should he go to see his father? The chances were, if he was conscious, he wouldn’t allow him into his hospital room. But if he wasn’t, it might be possible. Would it be easier to simply thank Andy and ignore the whole situation? So much easier, and yet… Lucas felt like the flood waters were threatening to overwhelm him.

Lucas looked at his phone. He knew Adam had tried phoning him. He knew Adam would support him in whatever he did. But he didn’t know what he wanted to do. Thoughtfully he began to dial a number.