Shit. How to answer that? ‘I mainly dressed up because my interfering mother practically ordered me to’ isn’t going to strike the right note. Neither is admitting that I was planning to interrogate his father about why he’d been acting strangely and thought looking nice might help which, now I come to think about it, sounds wildly inappropriate. The truth, even if I couldn’t admit it to Sarah and Mike, is that I did do it at least partly for him but, even though I’ve just told him to be honest with me, I’m scared to do the same. Come on, Tilly. What’s the worst that can happen here if I admit that I’m developing feelings for him? Total humiliation, of course. The gentle let-down, followed by me running from this shed, through the house, and driving home in floods of tears. No matter how much I’ve tried to protect myself, this moment is forcing me to confront how I feel about Will, and I’m terrified by the strength of my emotions. Yes, I made a massive mistake before and I’m naturally cautious but, now he’s told me his secret, I know without a doubt that Will is everything Luke wasn’t, and the thought of not having him in my life is like staring into a fathomless void. All of this makes the precipice I’m currently standing on more dangerous.

‘Tilly?’ His voice is gentle, but his arms are starting to drop. The moment is passing, but I’m not ready to let it go. I need to trust him; he’s just told me I’m part of his life, after all.

‘What if it was?’ I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He sighs. ‘I did wonder. Listen, there’s something else I need to tell you.’

I’m not sure what I was hoping he’d say, but it wasn’t this. I can feel my spirits plummeting as I sink down onto the stool by the workbench.

‘If there’s someone else…’ I begin, my mind automatically going into self-protection mode and starting to try to work out how I can escape from here with as much of my dignity intact as possible, so I can drive straight over to Mum’s and kill her.

‘There isn’t,’ he assures me, cutting me off. ‘At least, not any more. But there was. It didn’t end well and that makes me nervous.’

Part of me wants to make light of it and tell him that I know all about relationships that don’t end well, but his eyes have clouded over with sadness and it’s obvious this is not the time for jokes.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ I ask gently.