‘I just need to get a few things out of the boot.’ Max headed to the rear of the vehicle. Emma joined him, just as Alfie was leaping out, and Max was pulling forward a large wicker basket and a bag with a couple of glass flutes poking out, as well as a soft tartan rug. The corners of her mouth began to creep up.

‘Right, let’s find a spot somewhere a bit more sheltered in the dunes.’

‘A picnic? At the end of October?’

‘Yep. Why do you think I told you to wrap up warm?’ He grinned. ‘Here, could you take the rug?’

‘Of course.’ Hmm, well this was a first. ‘I’d have put my thermals on if I’d known,’ she laughed.

‘I’ll keep you warm, no worries,’ he smiled.

Again, that crazy flutter.

They walked for about ten minutes, Max loaded up with hamper and bags, and found a secluded spot in the front of the dunes area out of the sea breeze, yet still with some of the sea view. There were a few stragglers left on the beach, a man walking his dog, whose terrier bounded across to greet Alfie, and a middle-aged couple wandering the sands hand in hand, who seemed to be heading back towards the village.

‘Here okay?’

‘Great.’

Max took the tartan rug from her and laid it out on a flattish patch of sand between the spiky marram grass mounds. First things first, he found the two glass flutes and pulled out a very promising-looking bottle with a gold foil seal, then popped the cork on some champagne. Wow!

‘Cheers!’

‘Cheers, Max! Thank you.’

They clinked glasses and she took that first delicious, bubbly sip that fizzed fragrantly on her tongue. Max sat close beside her and they looked out to sea. It was a dry night, thankfully, and, though cloudy, no sign of rain.

‘So, what’s in the hamper then?’ She realised she was starving, having only had a slice of toast at lunchtime before opening the shop.

‘All will be revealed very soon, madam. We have to wait till at least six o’clock or it’ll all be over before dusk.’

‘You mean we’re staying out here in the dark?’

‘Of course, that’s half the fun of it. But never fear, I have candles.’

‘Ah.’

He seemed to have thought of everything.

‘I’ll let you have a few crisps, if you must.’

‘Yes, please.’

He pulled out a bag of salted crisps, which went fabulously with the champagne. Crunch and fizz, just perfect. They watched some terns swooping over the waves, the sea rolling in in a hush of white foam, its rush and pull soothing.

‘Been a busy day for you too?’ she asked.