But then he met Harry. And with each passing day he found himself looking forward to seeing him limping past. Watching him sniffing around, his nose set to the wind like the arrow of a weathervane; the comical way he wobbled when he cocked his leg. Watching Harry became the favourite part of Valentine’s day, and more and more he wanted to go out there and give him a tickle behind the ears.

Only now he was stuck. He couldn’t simply start waving, after ignoring her. She’d think he was barmy. Which is how he came up with the idea of making her a bird feeder. It was just an excuse, really, to see Harry. Only he hadn’t reckoned with how much he’d enjoy making it. He used to make things for Gisele all the time, and for Helen; little gifts for birthdays and Christmas. Or with how much she would love it. It was only a bird feeder, but she seemed genuinely delighted, and her delight rubbed off on him.

‘You’ve got a spring in your step,’ remarked Ruth, the receptionist, when he next visited Gisele. He couldn’t wait to tell Gisele all about Harry and his offer to dogsit. Helen, too, when he spoke to her on the way home. Still, to be honest, he wasn’t sure if Harry’s owner would take him up on his offer, so he was a bit taken aback when he got the knock on the door the very next day and there she was, standing on his doorstep, asking if she could drop Harry off for a couple of hours next week while she taught. When he said yes, she tried to give him a hug, which was a bit awkward as he didn’t go in for all that, but he was chuffed nonetheless. As soon as she left he got his jotter pad and turned to a new page:

Tuesday 10th April

1. Looking after Harry

It was the best thing he’d written in the longest time.

There was a knock at the door. It woke him up. He must have nodded off.

‘Hi, Valentine, it’s Liv – I’ve come to collect Harry.’

‘Oh, is it that time already?’

She was smiling broadly as he opened the door and he felt the pressure to smile back, but inside he felt only dread. How had the time gone so fast? He’d looked forward to this all week, and now it was over. Harry was fast asleep on the sofa inside. He felt a slight panic at the thought of Harry waking up and leaving.

‘I’ve brought you a cake to say thank you.’ She held out a large white cardboard box. ‘Don’t worry, I didn’t make it myself – it’s from the bakery in the village. It’s chocolate.’

Taken aback by her kindness, he stood, frozen, on the doorstep.

‘Oh dear. You don’t like chocolate. I knew I should have gone for the Victoria sponge.’ Her face fell and Valentine felt a stab of guilt.