He tipped his head down slightly towards me, almost resting his forehead against mine. ‘You made up the No-Man Mandate. If you don’t want to kiss me, that’s fine, I won’t ask again. But it’s your rules, Ollie. You can break them if you want.’

I shook my head, fumbling for the right words. Honestly, I felt terrified about how badly I wanted to kiss this man. And how much I wanted that to lead to a thousand more kisses, and starlit dances, and days and nights spent together so I never had to make this kind of impossible decision alone again.

And that in itself was enough reason to say what I had to say next. Even if it did feel as though I’d punched myself in the heart.

‘I don’t want…’ I had to stop and clear my throat. ‘I’m sorry.’

Then I turned and ran into the house as fast as I could.

But if I thought that was the equivalent to smashing my internal organs with a meat mallet, it was nothing to what happened next.

29

When Leanne came home three days later, End Cottage was rife with mixed feelings. Both Joan and I were of course delighted that Leanne was well enough to be discharged. No child should have to face the ongoing trauma of visiting their only parent in hospital for a single day longer than is necessary. Seeing a tinge of pink override Leanne’s sallow complexion along with the hint of steel back in her eyes was wonderful. However, she was still pitifully weak.

There was no way that Leanne would be able to take care of herself, let alone a child. We didn’t speculate whether this was for now, or forever. Dealing with each day was more than enough to be going on with. The hospital were clear that they were only letting Leanne go home because her parents were ready and willing to provide whatever support was required.

Leanne had a two-bedroom cottage riddled with mould and broken appliances.

Her parents had a three-bedroom house with a hot tub.

The solution was obvious.

Joan also pointed out, several times, that it had a tiny back garden with no forest waiting to be explored, and, more importantly, no dog.

‘I don’t care about decorating a new bedroom or going to some fancy school!’ she cried, face buried in Nesbit’s neck after the hospital visit when Leanne had announced her decision to move. ‘When I’m in my bedroom, it’s dark and I’m asleep – I can’t even see what colour the walls are.’

‘I’m not sure what your mum would think about you choosing a dog over her,’ I said, stroking her hair.