He shrugs. “It was a good challenge. I’ve never made something so small and fiddly before. And we did have a deal, remember? You showed me your garden, so…” He dips his head.

“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours?” I can’t help but flirt with him a little.

Scott’s smile turns into something a tad sexier – I’m sure Lily would call it a smoulder.

“Exactly,” he murmurs.

“So, what are your plans for Christmas?” I ask lightly.

Scott shrugs. “Not much. Mum’s invited me to a barbeque at her place with her boyfriend and their friends, but I’m not that keen to go.”

“Why not?”

“Mainly ’cause they all get plastered and make complete dicks of themselves.”

I laugh. “What about your sister? The one who gave you the sleeping potion.”

“Good memory. She’s gone to the Gold Coast in Australia for a holiday with her husband.”

“Nice.”

Scott wrinkles his nose. “Rather her than me. From what I’ve heard, it’s always packed with tourists and stinking hot. How about you? Any plans for tomorrow?”

I nod and fill him in on my Christmas Day traditions.

“What a great thing to do,” says Scott. “I might volunteer, too.”

“They’re always looking for more helpers.”

I’m about to ask Scott if he’d like to come with me, when my phone rings. Scott frowns as I pick it up. The screen flashes “private number”.

“Sorry,” I mouth as I swipe and hold the phone to my ear.

“Hello, Trish. This is Dr Trafford.”

Oh my God! The genetic testing results must have come in. I’ve been hounding my doctor’s receptionist daily but figured they’d all have gone on holiday by now.

“Hi,” I say. “You’re still working?”

“It’s officially my day off, but the results are finally in for the paternal DNA testing and I didn’t want you to wait any longer than you already have. I’m sorry they took so long – there was some hold-up at the lab. I’ve forwarded the email through to you.”

My body starts to shake. “OK, thanks. I’ll take a look.”

“Normally this would be news I’d deliver to you in person, but I know you’re keen to get the results. I have a space on Thursday at 8:30 a.m. I’d like you to come in and see me to talk about it further.”

“Yes, OK.” I risk a quick look at Scott and he’s eyeing me with obvious concern. “Thanks.”

When I hang up, Scott pries my phone from my hand, pulls out a chair and helps me to sit down.

“You’re as white as a sheet,” he says.

I shake my head. “I’m being ridiculous. It’s fine.”

“You’re going to struggle to convince me on that one.”