‘Of course. In that case, I’ll, er …’ I cleared my throat. ‘I’ll leave you to it. Lovely to meet you, Jensen.’

‘You too,’ he said.

‘Well, bye then.’ I didn’t quite know how to take my leave and ended up doing a weird arch shape with my hand like a windscreen wiper and cringed all the way across the yard.

At least I was bound to have made a lasting impression on the lovely Jensen, I thought pragmatically, the question was: what sort?

Chapter 12

Back inside, I hooked open the top half of the stable door to let the warm evening breeze blow through and set to work unpacking. I was arranging my toiletries in the bathroom when my mobile rang. It was Evie in a high state of excitement.

‘Oh my God, Lottie, you’ll never guess who’s just called.’

‘Dad?’ I said, catching a glimpse of my face in the bathroom mirror. There was a streak of mud under my chin which Jensen couldn’t have failed to see. I sighed. ‘Oh great.’

‘Well, yes, actually he did call,’ said Evie, sounding confused. ‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘Nothing,’ I said, not wanting to complicate matters further. ‘Sorry, I was talking to myself. How was he?’

‘Having a ball, by the sound of it. Said he’d met loads of women.’

‘Really?’ This was so out of character for Dad that I abandoned my packing and walked through to the living room to sit down and give Evie my full attention.

‘You won’t believe this.’ Evie snorted. ‘He had a flat tyre and got rescued by a choir of Belgian nuns on their way to Lourdes for a concert who dropped him off at a garage to get help. He said he felt like an extra on the set of Sister Act.’

We both laughed, imagining Dad squashed in the back of a minibus singing hymns with the Belgian sisters. My heart twisted with love for him. I wished I’d had more time at home with him before he’d left on his adventure; I’d barely seen him this side of Christmas. Still, I was glad he was enjoying himself.

‘I told him you’d got a new job and moved out,’ she went on.

‘You didn’t mention anything about Harvey turning up?’

‘God no,’ she said with a shudder in her voice. ‘I didn’t want to worry the old boy.’

I breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Anyway!’ The excitement in her voice was back. ‘You’ll never guess who else has phoned and asked me to dinner at the Italian in the village?’

‘Who?’ I crossed my fingers …

‘DARREN!’ she squealed.

I laughed. ‘And I take it you’re pleased about that?’

‘Very. I’ve got a really good feeling about it. What if he’s come round to the idea of fostering and he wants us to try again?’