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‘He has,’ I smile. ‘Tegan too!’

‘And then as a friend, can I make you a cup of tea?’

‘I’d love that,’ I say gratefully. Lara is not only very good at her job, but she’s someone I really am starting to think of as a friend. I head upstairs and let Willow know that our meeting is over and he starts turning off the iPad, says he’ll follow me downstairs.

I sit down at the table as Lara puts the kettle on to boil. ‘So, that call was about the flat I’m buying. They’re pushing me to complete on the sale. But what about Willow? What if he hasn’t found a new family by then?’

I hear the gurgle of the toilet flushing upstairs. ‘Well, we’re looking,’ Lara says, finding mugs. ‘I’m talking to social workers about potential couples . . .’

A throaty engine approaches along the drive, drowning her out as it draws nearer. I frown, glancing out the window.

‘Gosh, not another viewer!’ I say with a weary sigh. I turn left and right in search of my phone, which I’ve only just set down but can’t for the life of me see anywhere, to check for a message from the estate agent. ‘Let’s hope it’s not another time-waster . . .’ I stand up to go out into the farmyard.

Then Lara and I watch in surprise as Willow comes rushing downstairs, clearly having looked out of the bathroom window, and catapults himself past us and out into the farmyard, Tegan struggling to keep up with him, her fat bottom bobbing rapidly up and down. Outside, the ducks burst into furious quacking.

‘Willow!’ I call after him, knowing I can’t catch up. ‘Willow!’ But he’s running as fast as he can, away from me.

Chapter 8

Lara dashes after Willow, easily overtaking me. I’m out of breath and hobbling when I finally catch up with them. Willow is dancing along beside a big, gleaming motorbike as it pulls into the yard and slows to a stop. He’s smiling as widely as he did during Dinky’s great escape the other day.

‘Willow!’ I try calling out, weakly; then I give up and drop my hands to my knees, catching my breath. He’s safe with Lara. He didn’t go anywhere, he didn’t run off . . . That’s a good thing, says the optimistic voice in my head. He chased the motorbike, that’s all.

But what if he had gone? says my internal pessimist, talking over the optimist. And I know that I wouldn’t have been able to catch him, keep him safe. He’s safe right now, though, I tell myself firmly, choosing optimism. Right now, he’s safe. And he’s laughing and smiling again.

The big, shiny, silver motorbike is now at a standstill in the yard, but it’s still thrumming loudly. My racing heart starts to slow as I stand upright, and eventually the rider shuts off the engine and pulls off his helmet. I frown. I have no idea who this could be, but I’m not convinced it’s just another viewer for the farm.

‘Horse!’ Willow shouts beside the man on the motorbike, making me frown again. He turns to look at me and shouts ‘Horse!’ again. Why is he calling the motorbike a horse? ‘Horse!’ he shouts again gleefully, and he jumps up and down.

The tall, leather-clad biker puts the bike on its stand with a booted foot, then swings his leg over the saddle and dismounts. Willow throws himself at the man’s waist and hugs him hard, as if his life depends on it. Lara stands back, watching them, as I finally walk over to join them.

‘I’m so sorry –’ I start to say as I approach. The big man has wide shoulders, longish silver-grey wavy hair and a short beard trimmed to a point. Who is this? I’m thinking as I pause next to Lara. She isn’t making any move to step in. In fact, she’s smiling as if she knows him. The man has a big hand resting on Willow’s shoulder now, and Willow is still clinging to him, wearing a big, broad smile that lights up his face. He looks so different. So . . . happy.

‘Hi,’ the man says. He lifts his other hand in a gesture of greeting but doesn’t try to detach himself from Willow. He’s clad in a worn, tasselled, leather jacket over a black T-shirt, with a red and white bandana around his neck, a silver earring and a long neck chain. ‘I’m . . .’ he starts to say.

‘Horse!’ Willow finishes for him excitedly.

‘I’m Lara, Willow’s social worker. His guardian,’ Lara says, stepping forward and shaking hands with the man. ‘We’ve spoken on the phone.’

He nods. ‘That’s right. Hi, Lara, nice to meet you. Look, I know this is a bit unusual . . . it’s probably not the done thing, me turning up here like this.’

‘Well, yes, it is a bit unusual,’ she says, kindly but firmly. ‘Any kind of contact is usually pre-arranged.’

I’m looking expectantly at her, and she turns to explain to me. ‘This is Horse,’ she says. ‘He’s known to us and Willow’s family – a close friend of Willow’s. I think I told you about him.’

‘Ah, yes,’ I say, remembering something about a family friend.

‘I’m sorry,’ says Horse. ‘I was passing through the area. I couldn’t find your number, Lara, or I would have phoned. But I knew that Will had family around here, on a Christmas tree farm, like you told me. I was hoping that would be where he’d come to stay, and I just wanted to see for myself that he was settled and happy. So I followed your signs to see if my instincts were right. It’s a beautiful place,’ he adds, looking around.

‘Oh, the signs!’ I say. ‘Sometimes I forget they’re still there. They’re so worn now, I’m surprised you could read them.’ Somehow, the idea of taking down the signs we’d made together has always seemed to me like an admission that my life on the farm, with Paddy, really is over. I haven’t quite been able to bring myself to do it. But now I know it’s long past time. ‘I must take them down . . .’ I murmur, adding another item to my mental to-do list.

‘They’re lovely,’ Horse says, and he leans across to shake my hand. ‘Like Lara says, I knew Willow when he was very little. I was lodging at the house he lived in with his mother and her partner. It was Ayesha’s house, the partner’s mother. And a friend of mine,’ he adds.

I nod as I try to take in all this information . . . lodger, mother’s partner, partner’s mother. It’s a lot to digest.

‘I’m Gwen. I’m . . .’

‘My kinship carer . . . my legal guardian,’ Willow explains. ‘Well, will be soon. Now that Mum is so unwell, and I’m not safe with her any more,’ he explains.