‘Even though I’ve told you there’s the small matter of visas and permits to work through,’ Jonathan reeled off, ‘and that you won’t have to worry about money because I can easily support both of us?’

‘Yes, even though you’ve told me all of those things many, many times,’ I answered, with another kiss. ‘I know it’s a bit complicated but I’m only going to be looking at jobs, not applying for one.’

Jonathan sighed.

‘I need to know I’m going to have a professional future there,’ I told him. ‘I don’t want to be just a girlfriend hanging on to her other half’s coat-tails. If this move is going to be a success, then it needs to work for both of us. It has to offer me something professionally as well as personally.’

‘Personally,’ he said, now changing tack and kissing me lightly along my collar-bone, ‘I can’t see what’s so wrong with being “just a girlfriend”, as you put it.’

We still hadn’t talked about getting married which, given how quickly the time was rushing by, was something of a surprise but knowing Jonathan as well as I did, I felt certain that he would have some grand proposal in the pipeline.

‘Well, try seeing the situation from my point of view,’ I told him, stepping out of his seductive reach, ‘I don’t want to have to be financially dependent on you, Jonathan.’

‘And I get that,’ he said, following me across the kitchen and helping me into my coat, ‘I really do, but it wouldn’t be for long, just a few months.’

It was an extremely generous offer, but I was struggling to accept it.

‘I just want you to have the chance to settle in properly,’ he shrugged, sounding glum, ‘have the opportunity to get to know the place as well as I do.’

I wrapped my arms around him again. I knew it was unfair to keep spurning his kind offer, but I had never been out of work and hated the thought of having to go to him, cap in hand, every time I wanted to hit the shops. Even if it was as he had suggested, just for a few months. I knew that all he wanted was to be my knight in shining armour but the independent streak in me was determined to keep kicking his trusty stead out from under him.

‘You know what,’ I said, planting a kiss on his cheek and trying to lighten his mood, ‘I reckon this is all some sort of trick you’ve planned to turn me into one of those Real Housewives types. You’re actually just taking me with you to starch your shirts, aren’t you?’