“Where is the woodland walk?” she asked as the four of them got up from their table to leave (two toasted teacakes, unbuttered, to share, plus hot drinks).
I suggested they set off to the English Heritage Visitor Centre the way they’d come and the various walks would be sign-posted.
“Are there any more walks?” she said, “I have to up my number of steps. My friend here has done a thousand more than me.”
I suggested she take a tour of our garden, past the former tennis court, following the walled garden.
Surely a thousand steps, there? No idea; never counted.
A job for a quiet day perhaps.