‘Right.’ He nodded before handing me today’s mail and turning round and heading back out of my gate. I watched as he did so. Where once there had been an audible and unmissable squeak as the gate opened and closed, there was now silence, which was how I’d got caught standing out in my front garden talking to the sky. The squeak, although irritating at times, I had left purposely, partly as a pre-warning of visitors but also a security alert. I lived alone and it occurred to me keeping the noise might not be the worst idea. I assumed that Tom, on a check of the house after the downpour we’d apparently had, according to a message he’d sent while I was away, had taken it upon himself to ‘fix’ it. I turned back into the house and began closing the door.

‘Hi, Maddie.’

I jumped for the second time and, turning, found Tom standing there, having also come through the now silent gate.

‘Tom. Hi.’

‘I, err, I fixed your gate.’ He pointed almost shyly to it and I didn’t have the heart to say that actually I was kind of cross about it.

‘Yes. I noticed. That really wasn’t necessary though.’

‘No problem. How was your weekend away?’

‘Busy,’ I said. ‘There’s a lot of planning to do for this wedding. It’s a big event and I need to make sure everything is absolutely perfect.’

‘So the guy you were with is the one getting married? I noticed his accent.’

‘No. He’s the best man.’

‘Looks like he got the best job, accompanying you,’ Tom said, before flushing the same red as the late rose blooming in the border next to him.

Oh, crikey. Betty – and Lorcan – were right! Tom was sweet but not my type. Not that I really had a type or even the time to decide on a type. But I didn’t want to hurt his feelings or pretend I was interested when I wasn’t.

‘Somehow I don’t think he’d agree with you. Anyway, what can I do for you?’

‘Nothing. I was just passing and knew you were back today so thought I’d, you know, say hello.’

‘Well, that’s a coincidence, I was just doing the same thing myself.’ Lorcan’s deep, sing-song tones drifted in the still air as he came through the gate, ducking under the arch where a rosy pink, late-blooming clematis was just hanging on before the first of the frosts blackened it. ‘Tom, isn’t it?’ He held out his hand and Tom shook it, shooting a glance at me as he did so but all he’d have seen there was total bewilderment. What the hell was Lorcan doing here? ‘Nice to see you again.’

Tom nodded, and offered up a smile. ‘Well, I’d better be heading off.’