‘Fair enough.’ He rubbed his chin and cast his eyes down. ‘But I’d like to get progress reports from you: whether Gran is all right; how sales are going; what’s happening in the winery. That sort of thing. I’ll give you mine too, in case you need to get hold of me.’

I just about managed not to groan out loud. He wanted my number for professional reasons; of course he wasn’t asking me out.

‘Good idea.’ I recited my number to him and watched him tap it in.

‘All my numbers are on here.’ He passed me a business card. ‘And perhaps when you’re in a … better place, you’d consider having dinner with me.’

This was obviously part of his checking-up activities.

‘Thank you.’ I beamed, thinking how long it had been since I’d been to a restaurant with a man who wasn’t my dad. ‘That would be lovely.’

He shook his head, bemused. ‘I’ve never been good at reading signs from women, but I think I’m getting mixed messages. Am I?’

I stared at his face. The first time I saw him, when he’d bounded into Betsy’s kitchen and swung her around, he’d seemed so exuberant and confident. Seeing him less certain of himself all of a sudden was new to me, and it made me like him even more. I felt a tug inside and itched to lean across the gap between us and kiss him. Could I do that? I wondered.

‘Yes,’ I found myself saying.

He laughed softly. ‘Yes to dinner, or yes to mixed messages?’

I didn’t get the chance to answer because a taxi pulled to a squeaky halt in the yard just inches from our chairs and a spritely old man got out and slammed the door. In a creased ivory linen suit, cravat and crumpled panama hat, he looked like he’d come straight from a game of cricket with Jeeves and Wooster.

‘Jensen? Young Jensen Butterworth?’ said the old man. His face was tanned, but his eyes were bright and his top lip sported an enormous twirly white moustache. ‘Is that you?’

‘Yes? Mr Buxton? Good grief!’ Jensen leapt up to greet him, laughing in disbelief. ‘Lottie, this is my grandfather’s friend, Sidney Buxton.’

‘Absolutely delighted to meet you, Lottie.’ Sidney lifted his hat to reveal a perfectly bald head then did a delightfully old-fashioned little bow.

‘What a lovely surprise!’ I got to my feet, shocked by the turn of events, and felt my head spin.

The world tilted as if I was on a fairground ride and I staggered forward into the metal pole of the parasol. My legs crumpled and there was an echo of someone shouting my name as I hit the ground.