‘Know what you mean,’ I added.

‘Anyway, Lucy Raven, you didn’t think I’d forgotten it’s your birthday, next weekend, did you? I figured we probably wouldn’t last long this afternoon, if we made it at all, so I took the liberty of making some plans on your behalf. To get the celebrations started.’

‘You? Make plans?’ I looked aghast, as he dropped this bombshell.

‘We’re going for a drink at our old local, the one we used to sneak kisses in, when we were dating. And we know we won’t bump into anyone we don’t want to because they’re all here.’ He threw a cursory glance over his shoulder. ‘We’re meeting the babysitter at the pub – my Evie is going to take Albie home, so I can escort you to dinner. And then, next weekend, well let’s just say you’ll need to pack a bag because I’m whisking you away for a night. See, I do have some secretarial skills, you know,’ he smiled, even more broadly.

The little dimple that sometimes appeared on his cheek came out to play. He looked cute, in a black T-shirt and turned up jeans. I craned my neck and he lowered his lips towards mine.

‘Do you love me?’ he asked, just before our lips met.

‘I love you,’ I told him. ‘I love you so much.’

And it was true. I loved Oscar more than I’d ever loved anyone.

‘And Albie of course,’ I added, beaming.

Albie chose that moment to fight me for his attention.

‘Carry, Daddy! Carry!’ he called, appearing between us and lifting his arms up to Oscar, demanding to be scooped up. Oscar reached down and whisked the little boy high into the air.

Although we had decided that marriage wasn’t for us, not right now anyway, Oscar had been amazing, considering all we had been through.

Although I didn’t know who Albie’s biological dad was, and I might never know, unless Albie wanted to find his anonymous donor one day, Oscar really was Albie’s father, in every other sense.

Oscar had taught me that love was rarely perfect – and that nobody was perfect; that was, until you fell in love with them. He had won my heart completely and, now that I believed he was here to stay, I had given myself permission to be happy.

‘Shoulder ride you want, young man?’ he asked Albie.

He was met with a beaming smile and enthusiastic shriek: ‘Yeah Daddy! Yeah!’

A dimple appeared on Albie’s cheek as he smiled. It struck me that he and Oscar had plenty of similarities.

‘Here goes then.’ And he carefully lifted the child behind his head.

‘Look, Albie high!’ the boy cried, as he sat upright, taller than us both on Oscar’s shoulders, his small hands gripping the top of his head. ‘Albie high, Mama!’

‘You’re the king of the castle!’ I declared, his laughter so infectious.

Oscar began running back towards our car with the little boy bouncing on his shoulders, screaming with delight and excited giggles.