She studied him gravely. ‘How long have you been clean?’

‘Twelve years.’

‘That’s wonderful. A huge achievement.’

He could feel himself relaxing. ‘You’re doing the same as last time, making me feel better about myself.’

‘Good. That’s what friends are for.’

‘Are we friends?’

Again the air shivered around them. He definitely wasn’t imagining it. There was this current of attraction flowing between them.

‘I hope we’re friends.’ She handed him a plate with a large piece of chocolate cake on it. ‘You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. It’s counterproductive, produces negative energy.’

He smiled at her earnest expression, winning an answering smile from her, then he looked down at the plate and his mouth watered. ‘How do you make cakes without wheat flour?’

‘That’s the challenge. Rice and potato flour mainly. There are ways. I may write a cookery book on cooking for people with cereal intolerances one day.’ She took a jug out of the fridge and poured them each a glass of what looked like fresh lemonade, then led the way into the living room.

He stopped in the doorway to stare round. ‘I kept thinking about this place, but it’s even nicer than I’d remembered.’

‘I can’t imagine why you think that. You must have lived in some magnificent places.’

‘They were houses, not homes. Yours is most definitely a home. You’ve got such a peaceful atmosphere and the colours are pretty. Pretty isn’t the in thing these days, I know, but I like it. With your permission, I’ll send my interior designer across to look at this house before she starts on mine.’

‘Why don’t you plan your own colour schemes?’

‘I don’t know enough about it.’

She chuckled.

He was entranced by the rich sound, the way her eyes danced with amusement. ‘Why are you laughing?’

‘You of all people can afford to make a few mistakes and correct them, Jez. Unless you’re too busy, of course.’

‘No, I’m not busy. I’m bored out of my tiny mind, actually. Why didn’t I think of doing that myself?’

‘Probably because you’re not fully recovered yet. Eat your cake then I can start on mine.’

He took a mouthful and closed his eyes in bliss as he chewed it slowly. ‘Even nicer than the almond one.’

Only when they’d finished eating did he tell her about his son and the assault charges his wife had tried to lay against Tom.

‘You must be worried about him and his children.’

‘I am. But I didn’t need the police to tell me he didn’t do it. He has one of those sane, wholesome expressions, just as you do.’ To his delight she blushed. He was entranced, couldn’t remember the last time a woman had blushed at a compliment from him.

‘Oh. Well, thanks for that.’

They continued eating in silence but when she wasn’t talking her face settled into slightly sad lines. He waited till he’d finished. ‘That was wonderful. Thank you, Sophie. Now, turn and turn about. Tell me what’s putting the sadness behind your smile tonight.’