There it was again. The tingle, the shiver, as soon as his skin touched hers.

‘It is a bit chilly. It’s getting late.’

‘Come on then. Let’s get you safely home.’ They walked towards the tube, still holding hands. ‘So, all we’ve talked about is the garden. I haven’t found out very much about you. What were you doing here tonight, for a start? Walking about by yourself with your camera? You never did say.’

‘Deciding.’

‘Go on.’

‘I’m thinking of going to uni, doing a degree.’

‘That’s brilliant. Here in London?’

‘Could be. It’s one of a few options. But there’s a lot to consider, about fees and where to live and everything. I’ve got plenty of time to work things out. Term doesn’t start until September.’

‘Clever girl. You won’t want to go out with me again then – a lowly builder of very little brain – not if you’re getting letters after your name.’

‘Who says?’

‘Will you then? See me again?’ He stopped and turned her towards him. ‘Not just to sort out the garden, which I will do. Obviously, I will. But see me, like go out with me? Because I would like it a lot if you did.’

She could see his face moving closer, his eyes going very slightly out of focus as she gazed into them, and then they were kissing. She wasn’t sure who had kissed who first, but it didn’t seem to matter. The tingle had escalated into a full-on shudder as he pulled her towards him, his arms wrapping around her so tightly, his lips so wonderfully locked onto hers, that she thought she would never breathe again. If fireworks had started exploding above their heads she would not have been at all surprised.

‘Wow!’ That was all he said when they eventually pulled apart, but she couldn’t have said it better herself. This was nothing like kissing Joe Barton. This was something totally different. This really was just … wow.

The automatic light clicked on in the hallway, throwing a dim halo across the floor. She waved goodbye to Simon, standing below her on the bottom step, and blew him a final kiss, then closed the door quietly behind her. It was well after midnight and she didn’t want to wake anybody else in the block. The pink pushchair was in its usual place against the wall, and a scattering of junk leaflets scrunched underfoot as she stepped onto the mat. Nobody had bothered to gather them up and deal with them, so why should she? She peered into Madi’s post tray. There was a small pile of letters, which she picked up although it wouldn’t be worth forwarding them as Madi would be back next week.

The stairs creaked beneath her feet as she walked up to the top floor. She was glad to be back at last, fully intending to make these final days count before having to face returning to work and telling Fred she was thinking of leaving.