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I take a deep breath. ‘I’ve made a decision,’ I say. ‘About your offer. I’ve thought about it, and . . . you’re right. Living in your house will give Will what he needs, now and going forward. His own room, a garden – maybe the chance to meet new friends on the estate. So I’ve told them I’m not buying the flat.’

He raises his eyebrows, looking surprised but pleased.

‘Even if you lose your deposit?’

I chew my bottom lip. I can’t see any other option. I can’t stay here. I can’t afford to keep this place going without an income. The flat isn’t what a nine-year-old boy needs. Gareth is offering us a home and stability for as long as we need it. It must surely be the answer showing itself to me. Just as Horse said it would.

I nod firmly.

‘Yes, even if I lose the deposit. It’s not fair for us to move into the flat. Will loves to be outside, and at your house he’ll have a garden to run around in.’

‘You’re giving up a lot,’ says Gareth sensibly. ‘It’s a lot of money to lose.’

I swallow. It’s not just the money, I think. It’s my independence: a life on my own after life with Paddy. I push down the nagging fears, reminding myself that I’m doing the right thing for Paddy’s cousin’s child, his family. Paddy may be gone, but a part of him is still here in Will.

‘I know,’ I say, taking a big, deep breath and rolling back my shoulders. ‘But right now, helping Will have a better start in life is more important. I know Paddy would feel the same.’ I’m still finding it hard, the thought of how we worked to save that money. But this is about passing something on to the future. A new beginning. Money could never be as important as that. ‘Thank you, Gareth.’

A silence falls over the kitchen.

‘I think Paddy would understand and agree,’ I add, thinking about the little pot of savings I’ve just poured down the sink.

‘Well, in that case, we’d better make some plans – starting with a trip to visit Will’s new school. He’s going to love it!’

Gareth stands up. For a moment I wonder if he’s going to hug me, and I step back.

‘Just so we understand each other, I’m coming as your lodger. I’d want to pay for us.’

‘Of course,’ he says.

‘And as for the school, that is entirely Will’s decision. If he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t go there.’

‘It’s all going to work out, you’ll see. It’s going to be great.’

I take a deep breath and manage a smile. I’m not sure ‘great’ is exactly how I feel. But clearly Gareth is happy, and I have to believe this will be better for Will than life in a one-and-a-half-bedroomed flat.

‘I hope so,’ I say. ‘I hope so.’

I look out of the kitchen window. A chubby robin has flown down and is sitting on the ground, looking back at me.

The following week, during the two-hour drive to the school, I’m mulling over our visit to look round Gareth’s house. It’s a big house with plenty of space for us all. Despite the gnawing worry in my gut that this wasn’t what I had planned for myself after life on the farm, I focused on the fact that it’s all for Will’s sake. Just until he’s settled, I told myself as we walked from room to room.

I showed Will the room that he could call his, the garden and garage full of golf clubs he could have his pick of. I’d already discussed the plan with Lara, explaining why it made sense. And on a practical level, she agreed and said she would sort out doing background checks on Gareth. Will seemed underwhelmed, is the best way I can describe it. But then, he’s moved so many times, it’s probably water off a duck’s back.

But now, as we turn in to the school’s long drive and pass the large, impressive sign, I feel a sense of impending doom that reminds me of my own school days. Of course, my school didn’t look anything like this Baronial castle. My school was a square box with faded orange cladding – an attempt to make it look cheerful, I suppose. It was very different from the mansion we’re pulling up in front of. There is still a lot to sort out if Will does want to go here I remind myself. It would have to be approved by Lara and the local authority. But it can’t help to look, if it’s what Will wants I tell myself.

We park and get out, Will clutching his empty spice tin to his chest as we climb the steps. I’d offered to try and find replacement spices, but Will had refused, telling me he couldn’t remember the names of each one.

Gareth beams as he takes hold of the big black door handle, pushing it down and leaning into it as if relishing the familiarity of it all.

As we step into the foyer, a familiar smell of disinfectant and fear hits me. I glance at Will, who is looking around, eyes as wide as if he’s stepped onto another planet.

‘Oh, excuse me,’ says a young man, nearly bumping into me while talking ebulliently with his friends. ‘Did you see that try! Bloody brilliant.’

‘What a try! And the conversion!’ Another boy swings his leg into the air.

‘Smashed it,’ agrees a third.

Another couple of boys walk past, pointing to passages in an open book. ‘Paragraph three, it’s just sublime writing . . . Good afternoon,’ says one, nodding to us, and the other echoes him.