I go, 'I watched her at the end of break, going to her next lesson. She was wearing the same top as Saturday. Same as she wore last week.' I look at the fencing around the tennis court and pluck at the green plastic ties. 'That's a bit of a disappointment really.'

Chris just walks straight through the mesh. He glows a bit as he does so and says 'I think we have to steel ourselves for disappointments all our lives.' He laughs when I look at him quizzically. 'Our deaths too', he adds, smiling slightly.

I just sigh again, the millionth time today at least. 'I know. Like her saying about getting a card and a present for my birthday, something else which just seemed to drift away, forgotten.' I'm looking at the sky but seeing only her face when she smiled.

There's a moment of quiet, punctuated by the thump of tennis balls on the concrete and the dull groans of the players. 'You know she was lying about that card and that present all the time, don't you?' murmurs Chris, almost to himself.

I kick the fence, leaving a cross faintly indented on the suede toe of my sneakers. 'I know' I say, almost choking. I'm glad my eyes are hidden behind the darkness of my glasses, because they are glossing over with resentment. Resentment at the fact I can still be made to care about such a thing, irrespective of time, age and geography.

I go 'She had flowers in her hair band'. To which Chris groans 'shut up', and goes for a walk across the rooftops.