I watch him every day. It’s been my routine all summer. He works in his back garden with his top off. I can almost smell his sweat as he clears the paths and mows the grass. I’ve played the scene out in my head a thousand times. I walk downstairs and out into the garden. I wait until I reach the low hedge separating our gardens before I call out, “Good morning, Mr McCloskey.” I purposefully put on shorts and a top from la...