‘My best option for a scenic lunch is the industrial estate car park.’

‘That’s not going to suit someone who loves the hills and countryside as much as you do.’

‘Correct.’ He sits forward and leans on the table, hand propping up his chin, dark eyes glinting in the half-light. ‘There’s something about being on the peak of a mountain that’s so liberating, you almost think you could leap off it and fly.’

‘I suggest you don’t try that.’

‘No, obviously not. But you understand what I mean. When I saw you up singing last weekend, I could see that it did the same for you. You were so lost in the music. It was quite something to watch.’

My flush returns in response to the compliment; that and the feeling that Matt’s eyes are almost scanning my soul, seeking out our compatibility.

‘I do enjoy it.’

‘And you’re amazing.’

‘Mmm…’ I bob my head from side to side in a non-committal way. ‘…I’m not sure I’d go that far.’

‘Modest too.’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘Is there no limit to your good qualities?’

How about a deteriorating central nervous system? Or a possible future in a wheelchair? As this flicker of negativity flits through my mind, I’m so shocked I have to catch my breath.

‘You OK?’ Matt looks concerned. ‘Not choking on the animal feed?’

‘Oh… no, I’m fine. Just a twinge of pain. Overdid the running, I think. Seem to have injured my knee.’

‘Sorry to hear that. I wondered if you were trying to distract me from giving you compliments.’ He pauses thoughtfully. ‘It might be too soon to mention this, but one of my mates at the bar with me the other night is in a band. It’s a semi-professional set-up. They play decent-sized weekend gigs, make all right money on the side, rehearse in a proper studio. They’re looking for a lead vocalist – someone who can sing the likes of the Killers, in fact. He wanted to know if you’d be interested in auditioning?’

I purse my lips, aware that yet another commitment is not what I need when I’m trying to keep my health stable. Being far from ready to share my circumstances with Matt (which would undoubtedly send him scarpering for his beloved hills), I attempt to divert the conversation by mirroring his humour.

‘You’re right, it is too soon.’

‘OK, sure.’ Matt half-shrugs.

I immediately feel guilty as hell. ‘I’m only joking. Just playing you at your own game – and realising that was a stupid thing to do.’

Matt chuckles and shakes his head. ‘Shall we start again?’

‘That would be good.’

‘I’m Matt. Great to meet you.’ He sticks out his hand and I burst out laughing, then shake it.

‘Alex. It’s a pleasure.’

‘So. The band?’ he prompts. ‘Or should I go back to pleasantries?’

‘No, please don’t go there. Who knows where we’ll end up.’

We slug at our drinks and it feels like the awkwardness is finally starting to lift.