Laura shook her head. “There’s more to him than that, he’s just not flashy. He’s straightforward. We talk about all kinds of things, about the news, about what we both want to do in the future, about things we’ve done already, places we’ve been. He makes me feel . . . more than enough.”

Nina looked at her. “Continue,” she said.

Laura sighed. “I can’t explain it. He doesn’t interrupt me, because he knows when I’m done talking. He doesn’t expect me to know everything but he doesn’t assume I don’t. If we’re watching a movie, he’ll make the comment I was going to make, or he’ll look at me and I’ll know what he means. He hands me a blanket thirty seconds after I feel cold, he wants a cup of tea at the same time, we’re happy to be . . . hanging out.”

Polly made a horrified face but Nina laughed. “Oh shit,” she said. “You don’t fancy Bob, you’re falling in love with Bob.”

“No,” said Laura, “definitely not.”

“This is serious,” said Polly. “Nina’s right. Although”—she held up her hand—“maybe you’re simply becoming good friends? Do you imagine him naked?”

Laura blushed.

“Do you want to kiss him?” Polly asked these questions as if completing a government form: Do you have anything to declare?

Laura nodded her head, bright red.

Polly rolled her eyes. “Yup, you’re screwed. Thank goodness he’s leaving for a while, we can try to shift your attention to someone else.”

Nina took issue with this. “What’s wrong with her and Bob dating? Why shouldn’t she fall in love?”

“She just arrived!” said Polly, as if stating the obvious. “She’s having fun on her own, with us!” She was unhappy. “If she cuffs up like you and Tom, then who’s going to play with me?”

Laura leaned over and put her hand on Polly’s knee. “Pol, nothing’s going to change, nothing’s going to happen. He’s leaving and you’re right, I don’t want to get cuffed up, which is a horrible, horrible phrase.”

“It’s what the kids are saying these days,” said Polly, her color returning.

Nina was holding a book in each hand and looking confused. “I don’t understand what happened here . . .” She looked from one pile to the other. “This is completely wrong, I’m going to have to start the whole eighteenth century over again.” She looked up at her friends and grinned. “Yay!”

“Not to change the subject or anything,” said Polly, clearly happy to change the subject, “but the children’s Halloween festival at the pumpkin patch is tomorrow, and you should totally come with us.”

“Why on earth would I want to do that?” asked Laura.