"It’s just along there, the one with the blue door.” She pointed. Her voice sounded more cheerful now and she was skipping along. It was indeed one of those warm summer days that lasted forever, he thought. He glanced at his watch: only quarter past ten yet he could swear it was mid-afternoon. His mouth was dry. He hid another pear drop in there, hoping it would refresh him. They got to the path that led up to the blue door. He stopped. “Come on,” she encouraged, in a voice that expected they would be acquainted for at least a while longer.

He looked at her, and as her smile faded and she, too stopped, he said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to come in. You know what parents are like.” He tried to sound jokey but failed miserably. He shrugged. “You are a lovely child,” he said suddenly, and put his arms out. She stepped towards him and gave him a quick hug before stepping away.

“Will you be here again?” she said. “You could be my pretend uncle, I’m sure mum wouldn’t mind.” She looked sad, as if she knew the answer already. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” he echoed. He reached into his pocket and gave her the bag of pear drops. “Give some to your mother.” She took them silently and turned away. He watched her until she was at the door, then turned and hurried along the path to the corner of the building. He heard her knock on the door and his pulse raced once more, the butterfly wings felt the size of a ship’s sail and more sweat broke out on his brow. What would happen if she opened the door and saw him? What if she called out to him? What would he do? Would he run, turn around...

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