It was cold and it looked like rain, but there were still a number of bored-looking mothers huddled in the playground with their children – and the man from last week. She’d hardly given him a thought, and was not altogether pleased to see him. She liked to potter on her own with Ellie and had never involved herself with the other playground adults. He was on his mobile, propped up at the head of the slide as Dylan threw himself head first, arms outstretched, down the metal run. He waved and smiled when he spotted Jeanie, quickly finishing his call and putting his mobile back in his jacket pocket. ‘Hey . . . how’s it going?’ ‘Fine . . . you?’ Ellie demanded the swing, and for a while they were separated as they monitored their grandchildren’s play. Jeanie deliberately avoided his gaze. Dylan teamed up with another boy of his age, and they raced off round and round the perimeter of the playground. The man wandered over to the swings. ‘Listen, I’m sorry about the other day.’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I was .
