‘Lucky for you I’m more of a steak and chips kinda guy.’

‘Suits me.’ Tilly smiled, playing with the cuff on her jumper and noticing a small hole, which she couldn’t help fiddling with.

‘How you doing anyway? You seemed a bit freaked out last time I saw you.’

‘You noticed.’ Her voice was mousy.

‘I think we all did.’ He scratched the back of his neck, not wanting to make her feel bad but deciding it was best to be honest. ‘How come you were so upset about Dennis’s glasses?’

‘I don’t know. I guess, seeing him like that, in the shop, when I found him, it just wasn’t right. He didn’t look like Dennis. In my head, if I could fix how he looked then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. I know that sounds nuts.’ She looked at the floor.

‘Not really. I understand wanting to fix something. It’s normal. Don’t worry about it.’

Steven rubbed her upper arm with his hand gently. He had a way of making her feel relaxed and she liked it.

‘Thanks. I really felt so silly.’ She stumbled over the words apologetically.

‘It can’t have been nice for you finding him. I’m sorry.’ He finished his beer and banged the glass down on the bar to emphasis it. ‘Let’s get out of here, shall we?’ He offered her his arm and she linked hers through it.

‘Let’s go.’ Tilly smiled unhooking her bag off the back of the bar stool before being led out of the pub and onto the wintery landscape of Midsummer Common just as small flakes began to drift down from the thick white sky.

‘It’s so pretty,’ she said holding out a hand to catch a snowflake, which melted as soon as it made contact with her skin.

‘Pretty but cold,’ Steven said zipping his coat up. ‘Not like Christmas in Sydney that’s for sure.’

‘Do you miss it?’ Tilly asked as they walked side by side with their arms still linked.

‘Sometimes.’ He thought about it. ‘Actually, a lot of the time. I’ll be heading back there when all this is over.’

‘When all what is over?’ Tilly felt her heart sink. She’d miss him if he left.

‘Christmas and stuff.’ He walked with his gaze fixed on the path in front. ‘Now that my mum has gone, there’s not much left for me.’

‘Why did you come back?’ Tilly wondered if she was prying too much. ‘If you don’t mind me asking.’

‘I had to deal with her death. The paperwork, the house, her funeral. It was only ever the two of us.’

‘What about your dad?’

‘Never knew him. Mum was young when she had me. He was older, married apparently. He wanted nothing to do with me.’

‘That must have been tough.’ Tilly moved closer to him as they carried on walking.