Nicholas pointed to the dog. ‘I kept a couple of Jess’s pups from her last litter. We’ve expanded our holding of sheep and we need more working dogs. Jess is a terrific sheepdog, but she can’t be everywhere. The idea was that we’d train up the pups so they would fill the gap.’

Carol took a cautious sip. This time, it tasted good. Finally she had the hangover on the run. ‘Makes sense. I don’t see where I come in, though. You may not have noticed, but I don’t actually have a flock of sheep out there.’

‘That’s entirely the point.’ Nicholas looked pained. ‘This is an embarrassing thing to have to confess, but Flash is afraid of sheep.’

Carol snorted with laughter. ‘You’re making that up.’

‘No, honestly. As soon as they bleat, she runs away. If it wasn’t so pitiful, it would be funny. I’d heard this sometimes happens, but I never believed it either.’

‘A sheepdog that’s afraid of sheep? That’s hysterical.’

Nicholas looked at the dog, shaking his head and smiling sadly. ‘But once you get past funny, it’s bad news for the dog. The options for a working dog who can’t work are pretty limited. Keeping her as a pet alongside a working mother and brother is a bad idea, or so my shepherd says.’ His face grew serious, his eyes downcast. ‘And so it comes down to rehoming her or having her put down.’

‘And you thought of me?’ Carol made no attempt to keep the incredulity from her voice. ‘I’ve never had a dog. I’m a cat person. The only reason my cat isn’t here is that he’s too old to adapt to this life.’

‘It’s never too late to become a dog lover,’ Nicholas said. ‘Come, Flash.’ The dog got to her feet then settled beside him, head on his thighs. He buried his fingers in her fur, massaging the base of her skull. ‘She’s a lovely dog. Ten months old, fully house-trained. She does come, heel, sit, down and stay. And, as you saw, you snap your fingers and she comes to you and lies down. She’s a perfect dog for a beginner. If she was a pure-bred collie, I wouldn’t dream of offering her to you. Far too skittish, demanding and neurotic.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘We thought we were breeding from another collie, but Jess must have sneaked out when we weren’t looking. What we’ve ended up with is a collie crossed with a black Labrador. And that’s a much more biddable option. Intelligent but soft as butter.’

‘I don’t want a dog.’