Gilly was down early, ready to make breakfast for her B & B guests whenever they appeared. Usually she would try to get some sort of idea of when they might want to get up the night before but with trying to get off to William’s party, she’d forgotten.

Some elderly people got up really early and were ready for breakfast by seven. Others, who didn’t sleep well, sometimes got up much later because they wanted to catch up on the sleep they’d missed in the night. This couple, it transpired, belonged to the latter group.

She was grateful for the time to sort out her thoughts. She felt so giddy, so girlish, so – as Helena would put it – ‘loved-up’, she could hardly concentrate. She was grateful these guests hadn’t stayed with her before so they would think it normal for their hostess to keep forgetting things and to put tomatoes on the wrong guest’s plate.

They were still eating toast and marmalade when there was a knock on the door just after ten.

Gilly rushed to answer it, a smile on her face, convinced it was William, having changed his mind about the meeting. It was Leo.

You can’t take back a smile, Gilly realised as she looked at him. Nor can you say, ‘That wasn’t meant for you!’ You just have to back-pedal as best you can.

‘Can I come in?’ he asked, and as there was just enough gap between Gilly and the door frame for him to do so, he entered the house.

Gilly hoped she didn’t have to ask her guests to rescue her from him and ushered him into the kitchen. Ulysses would spring to her rescue and shower him with cat hairs if necessary, she was sure.

‘Gilly,’ Leo said, holding her hands. ‘Every time I try to talk to you it all comes out wrong. Will you give me ten minutes of your time?’

‘Of course,’ said Gilly, suspicious and a bit anxious. ‘Coffee?’

Leo sat at the kitchen table in his beautiful suit, eyeing Ulysses the cat, who did seem to have a rescue plan, involving the suit and its beauty, and his ginger fur.

‘So, Leo? What can I do for you?’ said Gilly when she’d put coffee, hot milk and a plate of biscuits down in front of him.

He fiddled around with his coffee for a few minutes and then nodded his head towards the dining room where the sound of knives against plates could still be heard. ‘Can they hear us?’

‘I doubt it. They both have hearing aids.’

‘Good. It must be such a nuisance not being able to say what you want in your own house.’

‘I don’t find it a problem,’ said Gilly.

‘Gilly,’ said Leo, taking hold of her hand.