Tina spun around, her eyes scanning the play area and beyond. She turned to her left and then her right, the sensation of being watched searing through her like a hot poker. The park was busy, but no one seemed to be paying her any attention. She was simply another mum entertaining her child on a warm Sunday afternoon. She physically shrugged in a bid to relieve herself of the hunted feeling, her eyes now seeking out her five-year-old son, Dimitri.

‘Mummy!’ he called, appearing at the top of the climbing frame. Tina waved at him, smiling broadly, revelling in her son’s delight as he whizzed down the slide, landing with a bump in the sand at the end. He scampered up and darted back round to the steps.

Despite this momentary distraction, the feeling of being watched remained with her. She waited for Dimitri to complete a second descent.

‘Come on,’ she said, scooping him up as he landed with a dull thud on the ground again. ‘Time to go.’

As they left the play area, Tina took another glance around. Her heart gave a little skip and she drew breath. The figure of a man caught her attention, but before she could look more closely he had disappeared out of view behind the coffee stand.

She closed her eyes for a moment. It was no good. She had to stop this. She should be used to it by now. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be Sasha. He wasn’t coming back. Ever. A slither of pain spiked at her heart, not as sharp as it once had been, but still strong enough to make her flinch mentally. Five years as a widow had dulled the intensity, or had she simply got used to living with it? She wasn’t sure and now wasn’t the time to analyse the notion further. It never was. Relegating the thought of her husband to the back of her mind, Tina took Dimitri’s hand and headed over towards the kiosk.

‘Do you want an ice-cream?’ She knew she really didn’t need to ask, but it was lovely to see the excited, gleeful expression on her son’s face at the prospect of the treat.

‘Ice-cream! Ice-cream!’ sang Dimitri as he danced along beside her.

Standing in the queue, Tina realised she was doing it again; checking for anyone who might be watching her. As she looked beyond the kiosk her heart threw in an extra beat. There, hurrying away in the distance, was the man who had caught her attention earlier. The logical side of her brain challenged what was rapidly becoming her irrational part. It couldn’t be Sasha. He was dead. Killed in a car accident. Her mind was playing cruel tricks on her. Was it any wonder, though, she thought as the figure continued its hurried departure? He looked the same height and build as Sasha, even had the same gait, his long stride covering the ground with ease.

The tugging of her arm caused her to look away as Dimitri pointed animatedly at the ice-cream he wanted.

‘This one, with sprinkles and chocolate sauce,’ he beamed, tapping the picture.

‘Okay, sprinkles and chocolate sauce it is,’ replied Tina, returning the smile.

When she looked back across the park, the man had gone. However, the sadness in her heart was not so eager to leave.

The

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