He looks towards the front door like he can somehow see the farm through it. ‘You’re going to get one income a year and you’ve got to make sure it’s big enough to last until next Christmas. For now, you’ve got more than a year’s worth of work to get this place back up to standard. The trees need a lot of looking after during the year. They need herbicide and fertiliser put down, you’ll have to inspect them all the time for diseases and insects, they all need some serious shearing, arrangements need to be made for however you’re going to sell them, seeds need to be collected from between the scales of pinecones, and saplings need to be planted, and if things were up and running as they should be, then cutting should begin in November …’ He must notice the blank look on my face because he trails off. ‘Too much for the first night, aye?’

I pull my ponytail around and pick a stray dust-bunny from it. ‘I only understand approximately 38.5 per cent of what you just said.’ I sigh and flip it back in frustration. ‘What have I got myself into here, Noel? Seriously. Does someone with no experience have a hope in hell of making this work or should I give up now and go home with my tail between my legs?’

He glances over at me. ‘Where’s the annoyingly perky made-for-TV movie character who tried to kidnap my dog earlier?’

‘That’s twice now you’ve referenced those made-for-TV rom coms. Don’t tell me you watch them?’

‘My mum watches them. If I’m in the room, I try my best to ignore them, but the main characters are usually so annoyingly shrill that their voices penetrate even the most industrial of headphones, and then I end up getting sucked into them. There you go, judge me.’

‘I would never judge you for that. In fact, I think that might be the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard.’ The harder I try to stop myself smiling at him, the more he makes me smile. ‘I love them too. I record them when I’m at work and watch them in the evenings and weekends. I can get through five on a Sunday if I try really hard.’

He bursts out laughing. ‘I don’t have weekends off, but I try to marathon a couple in the evenings. One of my guilty pleasures is lying in bed with a tin of Christmas chocolates and watching them.’ He’s gone so beetroot red that even the semi-darkness of the kitchen doesn’t disguise it. ‘And I can’t believe I just admitted that. Even my mum doesn’t know that.’