‘I like you is just “Tu me plais”, you please me,’ Shona explained, taken aback by the question. ‘You don’t really translate “I like you” directly, as that’s “Je t’aime”, which means something … quite different.’

‘Which “I like you” did you mean?’ asked Dermot. At Shona’s silence, he said, ‘You don’t have to answer that, it wasn’t a fair question. But I need you to know something. I like you; I mean, I think I’m falling in like with you. And I meant what I said, about not giving up on you.’

Shona blinked back silent tears. She didn’t think she was funny, kind or intelligent; she thought she was dull, deceitful, and downright stupid to have got herself into this situation. And yet, despite all her faults, she had somehow become loved once more; somehow, in the course of her deceit and dissembling, she had become lovable.

Burnt Cookies and Driving Lessons

ON THE LAST day of winter term Dermot arrived in school earlier than usual, hoping that Shona would have had the same idea and that they might have some time to spend together before the rest of the staff blundered in with Christmas goodwill. In fact, she arrived late, like all the others, barely before the nine a.m. bell, and distributed a batch of home-baked cookies before rushing off to her middle-fourth class. There were no more lessons after the mid-morning break, as the grand hall was turned into a Christmas fete, with stalls manned by parent, teacher and student volunteers. During the noisy and bustling set-up, accompanied by the school Barber Shop Quartet rehearsing Christmas standards, Dermot sought refuge in the staffroom, and for once got his own tea as his usual fan club were engrossed in comparing the presents they had been given by their various classes. He munched on one of Shona’s chocolate-chunk cookies, which really weren’t that bad as they had probably twice the number of chocolate chunks that were required, which disguised the rather thin and burnt biscuit they nestled in.He was slightly perturbed by the realization that Shona’s first act on having gone home, after they had confessed their feelings and made love, must have been to bake a batch of cookies.