‘What is it?’ He frowned and then he smiled at her ruefully. ‘Oh, don’t tell me, I think I know. It must seem as if I’ve been a bit of a bastard.’ He sat back and sighed.

She so wanted to forgive him everything but she had to suppress her smile at this understatement. ‘Just a bit.’

He cleared his throat, got up and moved away from her. ‘Can I tell you how it was from my point of view?’ he said, as if asking for her permission to continue.

‘Please do. I need a change of viewpoint.’ Nerves were making her flippant. Whatever he had to say she needed to hear it.

He smiled slightly at this but then became serious. ‘I think I fell in love with you way back in January. You were so sweet, so different, so pretty, so—’

‘Enough with the flattery.’

‘It’s not flattery, it’s the truth. And after we met I suddenly found I was able to write. You were the key. You were the reason I offered to do that writing course.’

‘Oh, was I? If that was the case, why didn’t you – I don’t know – make any kind of move?’ Her voice cracked with remembered hurt.

‘There were a few reasons, really. One was that I didn’t think I could do more than kiss your cheek without wanting to take you to bed and I couldn’t take you to bed in those circumstances. It was too public and I needed to be really sure . . . I mean I was sure but I didn’t want to risk hurting you.’

He looked at her, holding her gaze until she turned away, a wave of longing washing over her. She didn’t say anything; it was important he told her everything, if she was ever to truly trust him. She nodded for him to go on.

‘And back in Ireland,’ he continued, ‘well, I was well into a book, a book that was pouring out of me. I felt I had to finish it, or as near as damn it, and then pursue you, so I could do it properly.’

He came and sat back down beside her, taking her hand and stroking it. She didn’t move any closer but she didn’t take her hand away.

‘Oh God, I thought I might never see you again, touch you, get the chance to tell you how much I love you, how much I need you.’

She shifted slightly in her sleeping bag, but let her hand continue to rest in his. She still had some questions she wanted answered.

‘Just a few other things, if you don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I need to know about Bridget. Why didn’t you tell me you were together?’