She laughed and passed him the bowl of chicken instead. ‘Try this. I guarantee it will taste better than anything you’ve ever eaten before, tuxedo or no tuxedo. I bumped into Diane Gregg in the supermarket this morning. She said Harry is feeling much better.’

‘Yes. I saw him in surgery yesterday. One of the advantages of being treated like a leper is that I have plenty of time for the patients that do want to see me.’ He bit into the chicken and flavours exploded on his palate. ‘You’re right—this is good.’

‘I have a boat, if you want to sail.’

Conner lifted an eyebrow. ‘Are you making a pass at me?’

The colour poured into her cheeks. ‘Of course not.’

‘But you’re offering to lend me your boat?’

‘Yes.’ She delved into the basket and pulled out some crusty bread. ‘Or we could sail together. You can sail it singlehanded but it’s more fun with two.’

‘I didn’t know you sailed.’

‘I suspect there’s quite a lot about me that you don’t know,’ she said calmly, and Conner gave a surprised laugh.

‘And what do you think the locals will say when they see you consorting with Bad Conner?’

Flora broke the bread in two and handed him half. ‘I suppose it might be sensible to avoid getting into trouble, just in case the lifeboat crew refuse to help.’

‘You’d be all right. They’d pick you up and leave me in the water.’

‘No problems, then. Lemonade?’

Conner winced. ‘Are you serious? What is this—nursery food?’

‘It’s home-made. Evanna makes it.’ She poured him a glass and he heard a dull clunk as ice cubes thudded into the glass. ‘It’s very refreshing.’

He took the glass and stared at it dubiously. ‘If you say so.’

‘You’d probably prefer beer.’

‘I don’t drink.’ He felt her eyes on his face and when she spoke her voice was soft.

‘Because of your father.’ Her quiet statement required no response and so he didn’t give one.

They ate in silence and he found himself glancing at her occasionally and noticing things about the way she looked. Like the fact that she had tiny freckles on her nose and that her eyes were incredibly pretty.

‘You should ditch the glasses,’ he said softly, and she blinked awkwardly.

‘Oh…’ She concentrated on the chicken and suddenly he was reminded of a baby kitten he’d found abandoned when he’d been a child. It had been so soft and vulnerable that he he’d been afraid to touch it in case he harmed it. So he’d placed an anonymous call to the vet’s surgery and had then hidden behind a tree, watching until they’d picked it up.

Flora had that same air of vulnerability.