‘We’ve been told,’ Holly laughed as she fell into step beside Charlie and followed in the toddler’s wake. They wandered down the garden, and as they drew closer, Holly was jolted to feel Charlie’s warm hand slipping into hers. It felt so right there that she just enjoyed the sensation, in this beautiful garden, out of sight of her parents for a moment. She turned back to face him. ‘I’m glad you came today,’ she said softly. ‘It might feel a bit juvenile, inviting you to Sunday lunch, but I wanted Mum and Dad, and Rachel and Harry to properly meet you. As well as apologise for, well, you know.’

‘I’m really glad you did,’ Charlie said.

A slight breeze rustled the leaves of the apple tree that they were standing under and loosened a strand of Holly’s hair from the toggle at the base of her neck. She felt a tingle of desire as Charlie reached up his free hand and brushed it away from her mouth. Holly’s stomach started to flutter. Charlie dipped his head slightly and they were within a breath of each other.

‘Come and see the chickens!’ Little Harry’s voice broke into the moment and Holly jumped away from Charlie as if she’d been up to something naughty.

‘OK, munchkin.’ To break the tension, Holly bent down and placed a kiss on Harry’s forehead, blowing away a lock of unruly blonde hair as she did so. ‘I’ll race you to the chicken house,’ she said. She glanced up at Charlie, who was, thankfully, smiling. ‘Come on, Charlie, you too.’

‘How can I refuse?’ Charlie grinned. ‘Come on, Aunty Holly!’

Holly smiled. ‘You’re on.’ Both of them took one of Harry’s hands and scampered towards the chickens, who, somewhat surprised to be the focus of so much sudden attention, clucked disapprovingly.

Holly’s heart thumped as she saw Charlie smiling down at Harry as her nephew pointed out all of the different-coloured chickens in the coop. They’d come close to something just now. The question was, was it something that either of them would pursue again?

16

The next morning, Holly grinned as she read the message that had just arrived on her phone. She briefly considered setting Charlie his own notification sound but dismissed the idea as far too ridiculous. They hadn’t even kissed yet, after all. Although, for a long moment while she was reading his message, she did think about the kind of sound that would be appropriate for his messages. Justin Timberlake’s ‘SexyBack’, perhaps, or, more wittily, ‘Moves Like Jagger’, which she was sure he’d be flattered by.

Say thanks again to your folks when you see them, he’d written. I’m stuck on the train just outside Reading, as usual, and I wish you were here with me! C x