‘Shall we go on our walk now?’ I ask.

‘Sure. Okay,’ he says. Just as he opens the passenger door of the car, a gust of wind catches it and threatens to pull it from its hinges. He looks at me to check if I’m really, really sure and I nod, get out of my side of the car and change into my wellies, leaning on the car for balance.

‘You don’t let anything get in your way, do you, Ingrid?’ he shouts over the noise of the storm.

‘Nope!’ I shout, because it’s much too easy to find excuses not to do things. I can’t let my doubts and fears stop me. Especially not now.

Another gust of wind catches the tree we have been watching, stripping it of its orange-and-gold leaves. It howls as it carries them, spinning towards us, the high-pitched squeal like that of the banshee.

‘I do like that about you, Ingrid Devlin. Your spirit, it’s very appealing,’ he says as he walks beside me.

I notice he is smiling.

‘My spirit? Most people call it a stubborn streak,’ I laugh, but there is something in his words that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

‘Well, I like a stubborn streak. I like someone with determination. I see them as a challenge,’ he says, and there’s no denying this time that there’s something flirtatious in his tone.

We stop walking and I look at him. There’s a frisson of something between us. A connection that I can’t deny. An attraction that part of me knows is a bad idea and yet, here we are. Together. Conversation flowing between us. Able to banter and laugh even on a day like today, when we’re walking on this path to the place that changed everything.

‘Well, I am told I can be very challenging,’ I say, my eyes on his. ‘Always have been, apparently.’

‘Yes, I remember that determined wee girl who liked to boss everyone around,’ he says. ‘Even back then. Everyone followed your lead, Ingrid. I don’t know if you even realised it, but it was almost like everyone else was invisible when you were around.’

His words disarm me. The intensity of his stare. I’m filled with the urge to reach out and touch him. Take his hand. Or put my hand to his cheek.

‘Are you trying to tell me the world doesn’t still revolve around me now? I thought I’d maintained my diva qualities.’ It’s an attempt at humour, but I cringe at how cheesy it sounds.

He pauses. From the look on his face, I guess he’s not sure how to answer me. The moment is lost.

‘So, with that in mind, this diva would like to get going before this weather gets any worse,’ I say before he can speak.