I snatched up the bowls and walked over to the island, roughly shoving one into his hands before I poured us both a glass of wine. It had been a while since he’d sounded so narky and I didn’t much like this sudden reappearance of the version of himself that he’d promised to leave behind the day he gave me a key to the flat.

That said, I was certain the thought of me going to Wynbridge again reminded him of the circumstances of my last visit, and he was no doubt feeling flustered as a result, but that still didn’t justify him being impolite about my friend.

‘I don’t know what it is that you’ve got against, Dolly,’ I began.

‘I haven’t got anything against her,’ he interrupted but I cut him off.

‘I know you think our friendship is an unusual one and so what if it is? You seem to have forgotten that I have no family to turn to. Dolly is the only person I’ve got.’

‘Thanks to your parents,’ he interrupted again.

I wished Mum and Dad wouldn’t keep winkling their way into practically every conversation.

‘We’ll be moving in January,’ I carried on, ‘and this may very well be the last opportunity I have to spend the run-up to Christmas with my friend.’

‘I don’t suppose she is getting any younger, is she?’ Jonathan mused.

‘I meant because we’re going to be so far away,’ I shot back, ‘and I want to be with her when she finishes at the school. That place has been her life, and even though she says she’s ready to give it up, she’s bound to find it hard. I want to be there to support her, just like she’s always been there for me.’

Jonathan took a moment to take my words in.

‘Of course,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I’m so sorry, Hattie. It’s just even talking about that place . . . it reminds me of the reason why you were last there . . .’

The way his voice caught in his throat was proof enough that he was feeling upset by the memories the mention of Wynbridge had dredged up.

‘I know,’ I sighed. ‘I do understand.’

‘Of course, you should go,’ he said. ‘It’s important and I shouldn’t have reacted like that. When will you leave?’

‘I’m booking the train for Friday,’ I told him.

There was no need to say that I’d already downloaded the tickets to my phone.

‘So, you won’t be around next weekend?’

‘No.’

‘Damn,’ he tutted. ‘That’s a shame. I was planning something rather special.’

‘Sorry,’ I swallowed, my heart hammering as I realised there was only one ‘something rather special’ he could be talking about. ‘I didn’t know. I assumed you’d be gone again by then.’