Jemima paused before screwing her eyes shut.

‘Don’t let me fall,’ she replied, flailing her free arm as she took one tentative step at a time.

She realised she wasn’t just physically searching for a foothold, but emotionally too. It felt as if she was standing on the precipice of a whole new world.

‘I’ve got you,’ said Chance as he coaxed her forward through his flat.

Jemima allowed herself to plant her feet with more certainty.

‘Okay,’ he said, still holding her hand, ‘now a small step down, and we’ll be in the garden. Then you can open your eyes.’

She gently placed each foot on the lower level, then slowly blinked her eyes open. Above, the sun had all but set leaving just a few rust-coloured clouds, and in front lay a blanket laid out with a full picnic.

‘I’m making you a Greek feast. Kebabs, tabbouleh, dolmadakia, hummus – I made that myself but, full disclosure, I bought the pitta,’ he said leading Jemima towards the blanket.

From the small grill he’d assembled, embers glowing within, to the champagne chilling on ice, it was perfect. And the flickering candles made Chance’s tiny back yard seem almost dream-like, a timeless sanctum into which they could both dissolve. Jemima’s hand went to her chest almost as though she were trying to slow her heart.

‘Just a minute,’ said Chance as he pressed play on his phone and cello music drifted from a wireless speaker.

‘Is that—?’ said Jemima straining to listen.

‘Your favourite, right?’

Jemima had never fantasised about romance but if she had, it would have looked like this.

‘You like it?’

‘I love it,’ she said.

‘Great, now, there’s one last thing,’ he whispered, drawing her close. ‘I think you are magnificent. You’re beautiful inside and out and I want you to know, I’ve got your back, okay?’

Jemima began to panic. Was he about to tell her he loved her or something else equally mad? Her palms went damp despite the nip in the air. Chance took Jemima by the hand and she tensed.

‘It’s okay,’ he said, standing in front of her. ‘You know I love—’

‘Wait—’ she said pulling back, casing her escape routes.

‘Jemima. Chill,’ he said.

She let his gaze bring her back down to earth and eventually her shoulders dropped. Unlearning those fear-filled impulses was going to be a long journey.

‘Sorry,’ she said, laughing at herself.

He smiled, unfazed by the minor squall that had passed through.

‘As I was saying. You know I love Beverly but I admire you so much for letting her go even though you don’t have to. So, to mark that, I thought we could have a ceremony,’ he said revealing a sky lantern he’d hidden away earlier.

On one of its papery sides Jemima could see the face of a woman she instantly recognised.

‘I hope this is how you imagined Beverly.’

‘You drew that?’ she said, blinking at the face staring back at her.