I released a huge breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding, and the five other candidates offered a smattering of applause that was just warm enough for me to chance a peep at Baxter.

His one, decisive nod would have been enough in itself, but when he added a wink it was all I could do not to jump up and down on the spot.

‘That was incredible,’ Henry whispered as I scuttled to sit back next to him. ‘I knew you would be good, but that was… perfect.’

He looked at me, brilliant blue eyes shining, that rare grin brazenly taking up the whole of his face, and my heart twisted inside my chest. I had spent years believing that Henry and I loathed the very air each other breathed, and now here he was, in Scotland, two days before Christmas, cheering me on with nothing but pure intentions. What a pathetic, wretched waste of a childhood friend that had been.

14

Melody informed us that dinner was at seven, to be followed by the final round of the interview. That gave us two hours to chill out, fret, or cram in some last-minute prep, depending upon our personality. All of us except for Lincoln, that was. Now sitting at fifth place, he decided it was time to head home.

‘Do you think it’s safe to leave now?’ I asked, once he’d made his announcement.

He shrugged. ‘I’ll be careful. Even if I end up having to stop somewhere, at least I can tell my husband I tried.’

Henry, who had no reason to do anything other than relax, decided to stay in the library and read a book he’d found on ancient astronomy. I, on the other hand, wanted to lie down with my shoes off and check my phone. If I squeezed in a restorative snooze, so much the better.

While I was catching up with my social media community, a message arrived from Jed. I’d asked him for an update straight after lunch, but had anticipated that it might take a while for him to reply.

Some progress

I sent a brief reply.

And???

I held my breath while waiting for him to send a follow-up.

1 minute

Three endless minutes later, he called.

‘Sorry. We were about to leave for the carol service. I had to pretend I forgot my wallet.’

‘So?’

‘Right, so I’ve found a programme for the play Nana Joy was in when she must have got pregnant, A Murder in Paris. I’ve started working through the cast and crew for potential fathers. It was a small production, which means fewer options but also less-well-known ones, so some of the names are a dead end.’

‘Anyone promising?’

‘A couple of maybes. But remember it might not even be someone from this play. It could be a friend, or a neighbour. Someone she met at a party.’