‘Well, I never,’ gasped Dolly. ‘Out of everything you could have said, Hattie, that was the last thing I expected.’

‘Snap,’ I readily agreed.

‘Is he coming in?’ she asked, looking over my shoulder. ‘He’ll have a job to park. I hope you gave him the good coffee.’

Evidently, Jonathan’s recent charm offensive had worked wonders on my friend and her attitude towards him had undergone a total transformation. When I had arrived on her doorstep a year and half ago, desperate and distraught, she had been justifiably furious with him, then guarded and suspicious when I moved into the flat but now, thanks to a fancy hamper and an appropriate reaction to my faux pas with a Christmas card, she was insisting he drank ‘the good coffee’. I couldn’t help thinking she would have given him a far warmer welcome than I had, had she been the one to open the cottage door. It was just as well she would never know what he had said about her lovely cottage and the town.

‘No,’ I told her, ‘he’s not coming in. Not today.’

‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ she asked again as I handed back the apron.

‘I think I’m just in shock,’ I admitted, ‘he really was the last person I was expecting to see.’

‘I can imagine,’ she laughed. ‘He didn’t happen to go down on bended knee when you opened the door, did he?’

‘No,’ I swallowed. ‘Of course not.’

‘Is he planning to stay long?’

‘No,’ I wasn’t going to mention how he thought he could just breeze in and whisk me away. ‘Just for the weekend.’

‘In that case,’ she mused, as she added milk to the cups, ‘you’ll have to nip round to the butcher. I don’t think I’ll be able to stretch the dinner to three. Go and see what Frank’s got left and stick that chicken in the freezer, would you, Hattie dear?’

‘There’s no need,’ I said, wishing there was an easier way to break it to her. ‘We won’t need dinner. We’re going to a hotel.’

‘A hotel?’

‘In Peterborough most likely,’ I said. ‘But I’ll definitely be back in time for school on Monday.’

‘But what about today?’ she said sadly. ‘You’re going to miss out on all the fun.’

‘I know,’ I said, stepping aside to let more people through, ‘but I think Jonathan wants . . .’

She clapped her hands together and gasped; all trace of disappointment banished.

‘Of course,’ she grinned. ‘Say no more. He wants some proper time for just the two of you, I understand. He’s going to . . . oh Hattie. I hope you’ve packed something lovely to wear.’

‘You know I didn’t think of that,’ I told her.

‘How could you not?’ she scolded. ‘It’s obvious, isn’t it?’