I took my nephew Ashley to the zoo the day his parents divorced.
His mother, my sister, was celebrating her officially-recognised freedom by taking a plane to St Lucia with the photocopier repair man from her office.
I helped Ashley climb up onto the viewing platform so he could stand eye-to-eye with the giraffes. His little face was pink and streaked with snot, and utterly serious.
‘You are very tall indeed,’ he told the animal lumbering towards him, and held out his chubby hand to be sniffed.
I thought of his mother, on the beach by now, strawberry daiquiri in hand, and hugged Ashley to me as we watched the gathering clouds.