‘No, I’m not a real songwriter,’ I said, finishing my brother’s sentence for him. I was evidently embarrassing him with my very presence, so he was doing exactly the same in return as Tom shifted in his seat, watching us battle it out in front of him. We would row about this later.

‘Well, I’d love to hear your songs one day,’ said Tom, much to my delight and surprise. He leaned forward, resting his drummer-boy arms on his knees. The top of his T-shirt gaped open ever so slightly, allowing me to glimpse a light sprinkling of very manly chest hair, just enough to make me want to reach out and touch him. I may have swooned out loud. Again.

‘You really wouldn’t want to hear them,’ said Matthew. He sniggered a bit. I so wanted to swing for him, briefly recalling a time we took lumps out of each other as we fought over who was the funniest character in Friends or when we wrestled over the last mango in the supermarket, much to our mother’s humiliation.

‘I really would,’ said Tom. ‘I think we all need to be educated on how to drink more beer and break more hearts. Maybe you could teach me something too, er, Charlie?’

He quickly sat up and drummed on his knees a bit, reflecting my irregular, pumping heartbeat, and all of a sudden I felt a bit sweaty in my Disney pyjamas that had seen better days. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ears, wishing I was looking more presentable, but I was smitten, and so it seemed, despite my somewhat unique appearance, was Tom Farley.

And he called me Charlie.

We stood there in momentary silence, breathing in and out, not having to say a word as the universe weaved its magic around us.

‘Why don’t you go get your guitar, Charlotte?’ Matthew suggested seconds later, with a cheeky grin on his face while emphasising my proper title. It was obviously OK for him to shorten my name, but not for anyone else, especially if it was meant in an endearing way. ‘Go on. Give us one of your country songs. No time like the present, is there?’

I took a long, deep breath through my nose then pursed my lips to consider the challenge. He was really trying to get rid of me now.

‘But I thought you were having a meeting?’ I said. ‘You know, about the band?’

‘We can wait,’ said Matthew. He had just scored a goal and he knew it. ‘You have time for a song, don’t you, Tom?’

Tom beamed that glowing smile at me again.

‘Of course I do,’ said Tom, not knowing if he was giving the right answer. ‘The others are running late so if you don’t mind, Charlie, I’d love to hear some of your work.’