THE FOLLOWING FRIDAY came around so quickly that Claudia felt slightly bemused by how slowly the time had seemed to pass until right this minute. Each day, crammed as it was with client meetings, location visits, unpacking her own home, and buoying Jasmine through her bouts of nerves, had seemed to drag endlessly. And yet here she was now, wondering where the time had gone, and what to wear, what to talk about, should she be a little late so he got there first, or slightly early so she was waiting for him?

The problem of what to wear was solved by her mother and Jasmine, who were unanimous in approval of black jeans, pale pink blouse, and wedge ankle boots. Not flashy or seductive, perfect for the pub and a first date.

“Get him to talk about himself,” her mother advised when Claudia sought advice on this much trickier matter. “Men love talking about themselves.”

“That’s true,” Jasmine agreed, as if she had all the experience in the world. “But if you run out of stuff you can always talk about me, because what could be more fascinating than how I’m going off my head trying to study, sit mocks, and rehearse for the concert all at the same time?”

“You’re doing brilliantly at it all,” Marcy told her. “Your talents know no bounds, and apparently I’m doing pretty well too, according to Leanne. Working at Glory Days two afternoons a week is suiting me down to the ground.”

Smiling and hugging her mother, Claudia said, “She’s lucky to have you.”

With an overly modest sigh, Marcy said, “Maybe, but she misses Klaudia since she left for Ireland, that’s for sure, and those are shoes I cannot fill unless I want to commit to three full days a week, which I don’t. Anyway, time to get yourself off. Are you sure you wouldn’t like one of us to drive you there and pick you up again later?”

“I’ll be fine,” Claudia assured her. “This way I’ll be less likely to drink and end up saying something I might regret.”

By the time she got to the pub it was crowded, not unusual, but Dan had already texted to say that he was at a table in the library snug, just off the main bar, so she found him with no trouble. As he got up to greet her she felt so nervous and pleased to see him that she choked on a laugh and bumped his glasses as he embraced her.

“I’m sorry,” she wailed as he straightened them.

“Don’t be. They’re always in the way. You look lovely—if I’m allowed to say so.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. “So do you.”