She carefully placed the black cocktail dress back into the wardrobe, then found a green floral print wrap-around that looked promising. Not too smart, not too casual, and a colour she loved – green always contrasted well with the red of her hair. She sat at her dressing-table mirror, the dress now on, and she popped on some red lipstick which looked rather bright compared to her normal gloss. She even ventured so far as eyeshadow.

She could do this thing, she told herself. It was just a meal after all.

Her phone pinged. A text from Bev: You okay? Chosen your outfit? x

Em answered: Yes, the green dress. x

Yes, I remember that one – gorgeous, good choice! Followed swiftly by another message: You can do this. It’ll all be fine. I’m so proud of you x

Emma knew her game – she was definitely trying to make sure Em didn’t back out at the last.

She was ready; well, as ready as she ever would be, and began checking the road from her upstairs window for any sign of Max. This was all such unknown territory. The odd date she’d had so far (odd being the appropriate word) had felt strangely safe. She had kept her distance, realised it was never going to work, and then called it a day. Her technique was to just lie low for a while and not answer their calls – they soon got the idea.

But this … this felt unnervingly different.

Ooh – there he was. The grey jeep had parked outside and there was Max stepping out, holding what appeared to be a bouquet of flowers. She took a deep breath and headed down the stairs.

Max was hovering at the entrance to the shop, dressed smartly in a navy jacket, white shirt, and dark jeans, looking slightly nervous in a cute kind of way. It was already dark outside, and the street lights glowed as a backdrop.

Max gave her a polite kiss on the cheek as he handed over a beautiful bunch of roses and carnations in shades of pink and white. Their scent was just delightful. She hadn’t been given flowers in such a long time. Aw, he’d made a real effort.

‘Your carriage awaits, madam.’ He gave a mock bow.

‘Just give me one second. The flowers, I’ll put them in water. Don’t want them to wilt, whilst we’re out.’

‘Of course.’

Emma was as quick as she could be popping them into cool water, and was soon back out, ready to jump into the passenger side of the jeep.

‘You look amazing, by the way …’ Max grinned across at her.

Emma positively glowed.

The bistro was lovely, set in an old stone house on Alnmouth High Street. They were ushered to a cosy corner with a candlelit table for two. Very nice, very romantic. No wonder Bev had set her up here; Emma would have chosen something far more casual.