And then, through the rear emergency door of the bus, Julian appeared.

He had been driving out to the farm himself, after finishing a presentation over in Somerset, and he had seen the bus stopped across the road, and he had left his car and run to us.

For one bright, foolish, hopeful second, my heart leapt, because I thought — I truly thought — that he had come for his son.

Leo thought so too.

He reached out and caught the sleeve of his father’s jacket in his small hand, holding on.

“Dad,” he said.