I’m frustrated. I’m trying very hard not to be but, despite the fact that Will and I have spent quite a lot of time together over the last few weeks, we haven’t progressed beyond hugging hello and goodbye. My hope for a spot of romantic hand-holding when we took Isaac out for the day was dashed by his demands to walk between us and be swung, and the opportunity hasn’t really come up again since. Although Jonathan continues to be very welcoming towards me, his attempts to discreetly give us space when I visit them have been so blatant that they’re actually off-putting. The obvious thing to do would have been to bring Will over to my flat, but we’ve just been ‘blessed’ by another visit from Lena, and she’s the last person I want him to meet at the moment. If Jonathan didn’t quite manage to scare Will off, Lena certainly would. Thankfully, after traumatising the washing machine again, she’s disappeared off again to be absolutely indispensable in some war zone or other, and my mind has been feverishly trying to work out an excuse to invite him over at a time when I know Mike and Sarah won’t be there.

Today is going to be another wasted opportunity. After a lot of indecision and, according to Will, endless lengthy conversations about weather, wind speed and visibility with boring Bernard, Jonathan has decided that he’s ready to give Audrey her inaugural flight. On the plus side, Will is on his way over to my flat for the first time, but sadly it’s only to collect me to take me to the location of the mysterious flying club so we can cheer from the sidelines. Tash tried very hard to persuade us to take Isaac, but we eventually managed to convince her that standing in a muddy field for hours would really not be his cup of tea.

‘Looking good, Tilly,’ Sarah says with a smile as I come out of my bedroom. Will has warned me that it can get quite cold, so I’ve gone for a chunky roll-neck sweater over my jeans. I’ve got thick socks on, and my walking boots are ready by the front door. I’ve also been learning a few more make-up tricks from her, going for a subtle smoky-eye effect today, which I thought went well with the slightly seventies vibe of the sweater.

‘Thanks,’ I reply. ‘It’s supposed to be sexy but warm.’

‘I reckon you’ve nailed the brief. What time is he collecting you?’

‘Eight thirty. It will take us a while to get there, apparently, and Will doesn’t want to be late.’