She did not touch the bowl. Smelling the soup, she realized she was very hungry – she’d barely eaten in the last few days. But she was not going to drink a single drop, aware that the onion-scented warmth of the dimly lit kitchen was having an irresistibly soporific effect on her fatigued state – the toll of so many sleepless nights. She sat up straighter on the stool, pinching the skin on the back of her hand until it hurt. She was here for one reason only. She must stay alert, force Jared to see things from her perspective, not give in to the seductive domesticity he was peddling.

‘I didn’t know you cooked,’ she said into the silence.

‘A kitchen designer who doesn’t cook would be a tad peculiar.’

He was smiling at her, and she smiled back. Jared refilled his wine glass and began his soup. He glanced across at her untouched bowl, ‘I thought you liked pumpkin,’ he said.

‘Sorry … not hungry,’ she replied. He gave a calm shrug.

When he’d finished eating, neither of them speaking, he stood to clear both bowls, then bent to the under-counter fridge and drew out a packet of choc ices from the freezer compartment, laying a cellophane-wrapped bar in front of her – again without asking if she wanted it – and taking one for himself.

‘Love these. Haven’t had one in years. I saw them in Waitrose and couldn’t resist.’

Connie also loved them, but she shook herself. ‘Jared …’

He held up his hand to stop her. ‘I know what you’re going to say. I can’t be here. I have to leave. I’m ruining your life …’ When she didn’t speak, he went on, ‘But this isn’t ruining anything. What’s wrong with soup and a glass of wine between friends?’ When she still didn’t answer, he said, ‘I’m not leaving, Connie.’

She winced at the resolve in his words. ‘God, Jared. You’re not being rational. There’s no way on this earth we can be friends,’ she said, her voice rising. ‘After what happened between us? Surely you realize that could never work.’

He gave her a smile, which implied she was being simple. ‘I really don’t see what the problem is. I can be around you all day long and not give a single thing away. Can’t you?’

Connie let out a frustrated sigh. ‘You’re missing the bloody point. What the hell do you hope to gain by being here?’ She took a deep breath, preparing for another strike. ‘OK, let me tell you again. I don’t want to see you ever again.’ She spoke loudly and slowly. ‘Or have any contact with you of any sort … I just want you to leave the village, never come back.’ It sounded harsh, even in the circumstances, and she winced at her own words.