I felt my eyes suddenly brim with tears. ‘No,’ I said. ‘This is ridiculous. We’ve come all this way. You stay here and I’ll go and get us all Premier Area badges. And then we will have our meal.’

‘Louisa, I’m not hungry.’

‘We’ll be fine once we’ve eaten. We can watch the horses and everything. It will be fine.’

Nathan stepped forward and laid a hand on my arm. ‘Louisa, I think Will really just wants to go home.’

We were now the focus of the whole restaurant. The gaze of the diners swept over us and travelled past me to Will, where they clouded with faint pity or distaste. I felt that for him. I felt like an utter failure. I looked up at the woman, who did at least have the grace to look slightly embarrassed now that Will had actually spoken.

‘Well, thank you,’ I said to her. ‘Thanks for being so fucking accommodating.’

‘Clark –’ Will’s voice carried a warning.

‘So glad that you are so flexible. I’ll certainly recommend you to everyone I know.’

‘Louisa!’

I grabbed my bag and thrust it under my arm.

‘You’ve forgotten your little car,’ she called, as I swept through the door that Nathan held open for me.

‘Why, does that need a bloody badge too?’ I said, and followed them into the lift.

We descended in silence. I spent most of the short lift journey trying to stop my hands from shaking with rage.

When we reached the bottom concourse, Nathan murmured, ‘I think we should probably get something from one of these stalls, you know. It’s been a few hours now since we ate anything.’ He glanced down at Will, so I knew who it was he was really referring to.

‘Fine,’ I said, brightly. I took a little breath. ‘I love a bit of crackling. Let’s go to the old hog roast.’

We ordered three buns with pork, crackling and apple sauce, and sheltered under the striped awning while we ate them. I sat down on a small dustbin, so that I could be at the same level as Will, and helped him to manageable bites of meat, shredding it with my fingers where necessary. The two women who served behind the counter pretended not to look at us. I could see them monitoring Will out of the corners of their eyes, periodically muttering to each other when they thought we weren’t looking. Poor man, I could practically hear them saying. What a terrible way to live. I gave them a hard stare, daring them to look at him like that. I tried not to think too hard about what Will must be feeling.

The rain had stopped, but the windswept course felt suddenly bleak, its brown and green surface littered with discarded betting slips, its horizon flat and empty. The car park had thinned out with the rain, and in the distance we could just hear the distorted sound of the tannoy as some other race thundered past.

‘I think maybe we should head back,’ Nathan said, wiping his mouth. ‘I mean, it was nice and all, but best to miss the traffic, eh?’

‘Fine,’ I said. I screwed up my paper napkin, and threw it into the bin. Will waved away the last third of his roll.

‘Didn’t he like it?’ said the woman, as Nathan began to wheel him away across the grass.

‘I don’t know. Perhaps he would have liked it better if it hadn’t come with a side order of rubberneck,’ I said, and chucked the remnants hard into the bin.

But getting to the car and back up the ramp was easier said than done. In the few hours that we had spent at the racecourse, the arrivals and departures meant that the car park had turned into a sea of mud. Even with Nathan’s impressive might, and my best shoulder, we couldn’t get the chair even halfway across the grass to the car. His wheels skidded and whined, unable to get the purchase to make it up that last couple of inches. Mine and Nathan’s feet slithered in the mud, which worked its way up the sides of our shoes.

‘It’s not going to happen,’ said Will.