‘Just like that?’

‘A cocker spaniel, you say. Fine.’

‘It was just an idea.’

‘We can give him a name. Do you think it should be a him? Billy. Freddie. Joe.’

‘That isn’t what I meant. I shouldn’t have said anything.’

‘Sorry, it’s my fault. I’m not …’ He stopped. He couldn’t quite think of what it was he wasn’t.

‘I wish you’d tell me what happened.’

‘It’s not like that. I can’t explain.’

Now they found themselves back at the children’s playground as if they were drawn to it. The swings and the seesaw were empty. Alan halted. He took his arm out of hers and gripped the railings with both hands. He stood like that for some moments, very still. He put one hand flat against his chest.

‘Aren’t you feeling well?’ Carrie said.

‘I feel odd.’

‘What kind of odd?’

‘I don’t know. Odd. Like a storm’s coming.’

‘What storm?’

‘Wait.’

‘Take my arm. Lean on me.’

‘Hold on a second, Carrie.’

‘Tell me what you’re feeling? Does it hurt?’

‘I don’t know,’ he whispered. ‘It’s in my chest.’

‘Shall I call a doctor?’

He was bowed over now. She couldn’t see his face.

‘No. Don’t leave me,’ he said.

‘I’ve got my mobile.’ She fumbled under her thick coat and brought it out from the pocket of her trousers.

‘I feel like my heart’s going to burst through my chest it’s pounding so hard.’

‘I’m calling an ambulance.’

‘No. It’ll pass. It always does.’

‘I can’t just stand here, watching you suffer.’

She tried to put an arm around him, but he was such an awkward shape, bunched up on himself, and she felt useless. She heard him whimper and for a moment she wanted to run away and leave him there, bulky and hopeless in the twilight. But of course she couldn’t do that. And gradually she could sense that whatever it was that gripped him was loosening, until at last he straightened up again. She could make out beads of sweat on his forehead although his hand, when she took it, was cold.