‘Alfie. He’s good company. Gets me out and about.’ Oh great, she was sounding like she lived a hermetic, spinsterish existence with her dog. Actually, it wasn’t so far from the truth. Well, she’d nearly been married, would’ve been if fate hadn’t stuck its big bloody nose in.

‘Right.’

‘Are you local?’ She hadn’t seen him about before. She’d have remembered him for sure. Those big hazel-green eyes, fixed on her right now, wouldn’t easily be forgotten. He had cropped dark-brown hair and a stubbly beard that kind of suited him. Nice, even, white teeth when he spoke. ‘No, just staying for a few days in a holiday cottage along the road there.’ Nice eyes.

‘Ah, okay.’

‘You?’

‘Me?’

‘Local?’

‘Oh yeah, I live in the village. Been here about six years now.’

‘You’re lucky. It’s a really scenic place. Bit wild here today, mind, but I kind of like that.’

She was trying to place his accent. A hint of the local North Eastern Geordie, but well spoken.

‘Yeah, Winter’s launched itself with a vengeance,’ she replied. ‘But I like that too, when the sea’s all wild, and the clouds are inky-grey and stormy.’

Alfie went off to investigate some clumps of seaweed on the tideline. They were nearly back at the dunes below the village that she usually walked back through. ‘I’m heading this way.’

‘Me too – I’ve got the car parked there,’ he clarified.

They smiled politely at each other, his smile reaching his intense dark eyes. If she wasn’t mistaken there was a slight frisson between them. But she wasn’t quite sure. She hadn’t actually fancied anyone since Luke. Was that what this was? Did she fancy him? Oh, wow.

‘Clearing your head this morning?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, you could say that.’ He looked thoughtful, as if there was more to it than he wanted to divulge.

The spikey marram grass of the dunes began and Emma started to climb the sandy track. She was aware that he was close behind, coming to a level with her as the path widened when they approached the beach car park. She sneaked a sideways look. He was, in fact, rather gorgeous with a tall, athletic frame, as much as she could tell under his Barbour-style jacket and jeans. All too soon they were at the car park in the dunes and he was saying that it had been nice meeting her and that he had to go.

Weirdly, she realised that she didn’t want that, as if there was already some connection between them. He stood and just looked at her for a few significant seconds and she guessed he might be feeling the same way too.

Then he stepped towards her, took her hand in his. His grasp was warm, smooth, gentle.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I think you’ve helped me make my decision.’