Realising that I am still wearing Kit’s discarded shirt, I peel it off as he approaches, holding it out to him like a peace offering.

‘Ta.’ He sniffs it. ‘On second thoughts …’

Immediately consoled by his teasing manner, I glance sheepishly towards Bonnie and then back at him, trying to say with a gesture what I can’t even begin to explain with words.

‘It’s OK,’ he says. ‘I had a good chat with your dad and he filled me in.’

‘Oh.’ I can feel my face burning. I thought Kit would be angry with me for keeping my identity a secret, but on the contrary, he doesn’t seem any different. If anything, he looks rather pleased with the situation. He has unearthed a T-shirt from somewhere, but it is at least two sizes too small.

‘I’ll just go and get that stuff for you,’ Bonnie says to me, heading off in the direction of the minibus, which I now notice has a battered red car parked beside it.

‘So …’ Kit rests his chin in one of his big hands.

‘So …’ I reply, chewing the inside of my cheek.

‘So, this has been quite the day,’ he remarks. ‘I know there are supposed to be fireworks on New Year’s Eve, but usually they start going off towards the end of the day, not at the start.’

‘I think I’ve had as much drama as I can handle for one day,’ I admit. Then, when Kit says nothing, ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t honest with you from the start – I didn’t mean to lie, I just panicked and then I—’

‘Hush up, you silly old coot,’ he chides. ‘I had guessed you were related to Bon, you know.’

‘You had?’

‘Of course.’ He puts his head on one side, examining me with those pale mint eyes of his. ‘You look just like her.’

‘Why didn’t you ask me outright?’ I exclaim. ‘Or call Bonnie and ask her?’

Kit pushes his lips together. ‘None of my business,’ he says simply. ‘I figured you and Bon would sort it out when she got back, and I didn’t want to scare you away by poking my noggin in. The thing is, I kind of like having you around – and Tui loves you,’ he adds quickly, clocking my look of incredulity.

Bonnie is making her way back towards us now, a folded sheaf of papers in one of her hands.

‘I should—’ I begin, and Kit flashes me a smile.

‘Of course. Well, Happy New Year, I guess. You’re certainly seeing this one out in style.’

I dredge up a laugh. ‘And to you – and thanks again for fishing me out of the river.’

‘Anytime,’ he retorts cheerfully, and I find it impossible not to stare at his departing back as it vanishes into the tack room.