‘Where does she want you to go?’ I ask, aware that the thought of a Koru Stables with no Kit is a very sad one.

‘Wellington,’ he says simply, spitting out the word with disdain. ‘The big city.’

‘And you’re not keen?’ I prompt, filling in the blanks.

Kit shakes his head.

‘Thing is,’ he admits, looking sheepish, ‘I promised her that if she stayed here for another year, then I would try living in Welly for a year.’

‘And how long ago was that?’

Kit clenches his teeth together. ‘Two and a bit years.’

‘I see …’

Poor Allie, I think, watching as Kit runs an agitated hand through his hair. But then, what about Tui? How would she cope if Kit were to move away? He is clearly one of the closest people to her – she adores him.

‘I thought I’d be ready to go by then, you know?’ Kit laments. ‘I would never have said it if I didn’t believe that. The thing is, the longer I work at Koru, the more I realise how much I like it. I’m happy where I am, and Allie’s happy, too, really – she just tells herself she isn’t.’

‘Do you really think that?’ I ask. ‘Or are you just saying it to make yourself feel better?’

His eyes are wide now with bemusement at being challenged, but I don’t back down.

‘Because,’ I continue firmly, ‘it would be easier for you if Allie agreed to stay, wouldn’t it?’

Kit agrees rather reluctantly that it would.

‘And she knows that, which is why she’s let you get away with claiming another eighteen months.’

‘I told you.’ Kit is now picking the label off his bottle. ‘She’s a good person.’

‘I would say that you’re both good people,’ I point out, but Kit shakes his head.

‘A good man would quit whingeing like an old coot and do whatever it takes to make his girlfriend happy.’

‘But if that doesn’t make you happy …’ I let the sentence hang unfinished in the air, and Kit looks at me, his mouth set in a grim line.

‘Right,’ he mutters. ‘Now you see my problem.’

‘You know what my mum always used to tell me?’ I say, and find myself smiling at the memory. ‘That it’s important to make others happy, but in order to do that, you must start with yourself.’

Kit doesn’t miss a beat.

‘Used to tell you?’ he says softly, and I feel myself wince.

‘Yes.’

‘Your mum is the one you lost?’

Kit scoots across the grass as I drop my chin, and puts one of his vast arms around me.

‘Ah, come here, you,’ he says, pulling me against him for a moment.