Throughout the rest of the day, the snow showers continued to sweep across Wynbridge topping up the earlier covering just enough to look picturesque, but not enough to cause widespread panic. I knew that if the temperature dipped overnight it would be a different story in the morning, but for now it was picture perfect.

‘It’s not as cold as you might think,’ I said, stamping my feet on Dolly’s back doormat to shake off the snow having made an intrepid trip into the garden to replenish the bird table, ‘and it’s lovely and quiet.’

The blanket of snow had muffled everything and I watched on, smiling, as Dolly hastily added snow to the Wish List, safe in the knowledge that she could tick it straight off again. The list was looking a little idyllic to my eyes now and I couldn’t deny that, with the help of the white stuff, some of its charm was beginning to rub off on me.

Thinking over the outcome of my conversation with Jonathan further lifted my spirits and I couldn’t wait for the end of the school day when Beamish would be collecting us for our tour of Wynthorpe Hall.

In fact, I was feeling so much better for coming clean – albeit partially – that I thought the trip might be the perfect opportunity to tell him a little more about my imminent move, as well as who I was going to be making it with. If he knew about Jonathan, I reasoned, then he would be even more inclined to believe that our near-kiss really had been a figment of his imagination.

‘He’s late,’ said Dolly, peering around the curtain the second Beamish was due, ‘and he’s never late. You don’t suppose he’s forgotten, do you?’

‘Of course not,’ I said. ‘He was the one who arranged it so that’s hardly likely, is it? And,’ I quickly added preempting her next question. ‘I’m sure there’s nothing wrong at school either. You said yourself that, given the change in the weather, he’d have extra jobs to do. I daresay he’s just checking the boiler or something.’

When Beamish did arrive, barely fifteen minutes later than his ETA, I could see that my soothing words to Dolly had been right; there was obviously nothing wrong at school because he had found the time to go home and change. Watching him walk down the path, I rather wished he hadn’t.

‘My goodness,’ said Dolly, opening the door to let him in. ‘Don’t you look smart.’

‘Thank you, Dolly,’ he grinned, ducking his head, only on this occasion not to avoid the low doorframe.