Naturally I’d thought long and hard about what to wear: it had been a pleasurable diversion. In the end, I’d settled for a long, slightly boho skirt Imo had given me for my last birthday, a pair of lace-up ankle boots, and a thin cream cashmere jumper tucked into a wide belt. I’d added a short, faux-suede jacket from Zara. The vibe I was hoping for was arty chic. As I rang the bell clutching my bunch of tulips, it occurred to me that my heart didn’t beat like this as I was waiting for Dan.

Josh flung wide the door, bestowing on me a beaming smile. I basked in its glow for a moment. God, he was – oh, get a grip, Lucy. To be fair, though, he hadn’t smiled at me much before. Most of our exchanges had been of a serious bent. This new social dynamic caused his eyes to crinkle, which I loved: it was something Ned had, smiling eyes. He was wearing a blue shirt and a perfectly ordinary pair of chinos, but he somehow made it look Parisian and chic. I beamed just as broadly back and we kissed lightly on each cheek. As he shut the door behind me, he said quietly:

‘OK?’

‘Yes, thanks,’ I replied, knowing that this was more than just a social enquiry.

I followed him through into the sitting room where his friends were already sitting. They both rose to greet me, smiling, as Josh brought me through and introduced us. Francis was middle-aged, small and balding, but his bright, twinkly hazel eyes didn’t miss a trick, and Trisha was soft and fair, with slightly windswept curls. But no frowsty clothes, as some academics are known for, perhaps because, as I was quickly to discover, she wasn’t one. I’d got that wrong. She had a garden design business, which was much more manageable for me, conversationally, than the French literature her husband specialized in. After some initial chat, we went through to the kitchen together to arrange my flowers, and fell happily to Dutch or English tulips. These were Dutch. We discussed which lasted the longest, and whether to trim the stems or put anything in the water, all of which I was very au fait with. When we’d set the vase on the table, I even offered to show her my garden, which of course wasn’t mine at all, but sort of was. We had a laugh about that and I opened the French doors and showed her anyway.