‘Here.’ Emma passed her friend a cellophane bag. ‘Go on, fill it. But, if you wouldn’t mind, take a few of those Christmas pud truffles and snowy stars that are left on the counter; that’ll help my stock situation. They’ve got to be eaten in the next week or so before they go out of date.’

‘No worries. I’ll gladly take them off your hands. What do you fancy, Em?’

To be honest, Emma had seen and handled so much chocolate in the past few weeks, she wasn’t sure. But she was always partial to a soft-centred caramel.

‘Just a couple of the chocolate salted caramels – those ones over there. That’ll do me.’

They were soon settled upstairs with a glass of Prosecco in hand, the chocolate goodie bag nestled between them, and their slippered feet propped up on the coffee table.

They’d laughed their way through Bridget Jones’s Baby and cried their way through The Notebook – a classic romantic film and novel that Emma always loved. And, hey-ho, despite the tears, a couple of hours spent with Ryan Gosling was never a bad thing.

‘Blimey, that ending just makes me want to go home and snuggle right up with Pete. But, wouldn’t it be awful for someone to just disappear from your life so suddenly?’ Bev stopped talking and looked across at Emma. ‘Oh balls! Sorry, Em. Films like this must be pretty hard for you, yeah? Like, I know it’s a long time ago and all that, but …’

‘It’s all right.’ Emma smiled sadly, unable to really voice what she felt inside.

‘You must miss that, though, that closeness. Don’t you ever want to go out and find someone? Go on a date? You haven’t been out like that in ages. And well, to put it bluntly, have a good shag.’ The Prosecco had certainly loosened Bev’s tongue. They’d had nearly a bottle each by now. ‘Or maybe you have been, and you’re keeping it all quiet.’ Bev arched her eyebrows.

Emma thought of the hunky man on the beach, but said nothing. That was better kept to herself. Chances were she’d never see him again, and maybe that was for the best. It was probably all illusory. No one had ever come near …

‘Hah, it’s Alan in the village, isn’t it?’