‘Hello?’ came the voice, tinny and distant through the intercom.

Jemima hovered, her breath a rising pillar in the chilly morning air. Now, standing outside Chance’s practice, this felt like a bad idea made by her sleep-deprived brain. She had a tonne of work to do plus she was meeting Simi and Meagan tonight. She didn’t have time for an impromptu book club. She turned to leave.

‘Can I help you?’ came the voice, it’s Australian twang unmistakable.

Jemima stopped, leaning in to speak.

She stared at the intercom. She would return Chance’s book another time, she decided as she headed back the way she came. He was probably busy fixing twisted ankles and untennis-ing people’s elbows.

‘Jemima!’ Chance called from behind her.

Her knees locked, rooting her to the spot.

‘Shit,’ she murmured before turning around.

‘Hey,’ said Chance trotting over. ‘What a brilliant surprise. You okay?’

Jemima instantly held up Pete’s autobiography, a defensive barrier between them.

‘I just came to return your book,’ she blurted.

‘Ah, thanks but you didn’t have to. It’s lovely to see you though.’ Chance smiled.

Bad idea, Jemima, bad idea, she intoned, vowing never to follow her instincts again. Stupid sleep-deprived brain. Stupid instincts. Stupid chemicals.

Chance shivered. ‘I’ve got a break between patients. Fancy a walk?’

‘Mmmm,’ said Jemima, as though her head was being nodded for her.

Damn those instincts!

‘Great! Let me grab my jacket,’ he said as he dashed back inside.

Before Jemima could change her mind, Chance had remerged, wrapped in a thick, navy parka and scarf.

‘Looks cosy,’ said Jemima.

Chance grinned, opening up one side of his coat to let her snuggle inside. She froze.

‘I’m kidding,’ he laughed, digging his hands deep in his pockets. ‘Wow, you guys sure know how to do a cold snap. How’s about a couple of laps around the park, get the blood going?’

Jemima relaxed and, once again her invisible puppeteer nodded her head and they walked off down the street.

‘So, what did you think of Pete’s book?’ Chance asked as they rounded the corner to the park. ‘I know it’s a bit rough in places.’

‘It was lovely,’ said Jemima. ‘You get a few mentions.’

These were both understatements. The book had been enchanting from beginning to end and Jemima had been moved by how much Chance featured. The love between him and Pete was evident. Furthermore, the love between Pete and Lula and the way it inspired him to work to regain his mobility had been… profound. That was the word Jemima had whispered to herself in the middle of the night as she read. This wasn’t a book about learning to walk or war wounds and injuries. This was a meditation on love and Jemima had found it unputdownable. Screw Lance and his brain scans. Love was real.

‘I do get the odd mention, don’t I?’ Chance smiled sheepishly.

They walked on for a while, bound by the quiet. This felt so different from yesterday with Lance. There was a lightness whenever she was around Chance, just walking.