Ewan did have his laptop open, though. And was wearing his glasses, his brow furrowed in concentration as he stared at the screen for a moment before typing furiously. She watched him from the door. It was almost as if she could see the cogs whirring and clicking in his brain, the story travelling from his head to his fingers. Jo couldn’t help but smile, but just as she prepared to cross the room and take her seat, she saw him sit back, shake his head and sigh loudly before slamming the lid of his laptop down. He looked wretched as he lifted his wine glass and took a long drink before taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose.

That was the moment when Jo felt it again. Those strange feelings she couldn’t quite put a label on. There was more to Ewan than he was prepared to show her.

‘Feel the fear and do it anyway,’ she whispered to herself before she decided just to go to the table and take what she had seen at face value.

When he saw her, Ewan smiled that same, soft, seductive smile he always did. All traces of wretchedness were gone.

‘Tough day?’ she asked.

She couldn’t be completely sure, but she definitely thought she saw him bristle and she wondered if she had somehow said the wrong thing.

‘No,’ he replied. ‘Why do you ask?’

Having decided not to mention the way he had slammed closed his laptop, she nodded to the wine glasses on the table. ‘You’ve made a start on the wine,’ she said, styling it out with a smile.

‘Ah!’ Ewan said as relief flooded his face. ‘You caught me. Well, it is a Saturday and I think we earned it. Also, I often find a glass or two helps oil the creative cogs.’

‘I’m up for giving it a go,’ Jo said and Ewan handed her the second glass before he lifted his own.

‘Here’s to a productive day all round. Your work and great collaborations.’

‘To great collaborations!’ Jo replied as they clinked their glasses together.

‘Right,’ Ewan said. ‘I suppose we better get started on your great novel. Today, let’s have a chat about character. I want to know all about your characters. Their backstories. Their motivations. Their favourite drinks or favourite TV shows. I want to know everything,’ he said. ‘Whether you think it’s relevant to the story or not. The more you know about your characters, the fuller they are, the more real they will feel. At the minute, Kate feels a little one-dimensional at times.’

Jo felt herself colour. It was as if she had just been given her homework back with red pen all over it. She tried to arrange her expression so that she didn’t look as if she was cringing so tightly internally that she feared she might pop a blood vessel.

Clearly she failed.