She kicked off her shoes and went to join them, kissing Iris on the cheek then going to hug Tim from behind as he pulled a lasagne out of the oven. She noticed a bottle of beer on the side.

‘On the booze?’

‘Yep.’

‘Good. I could do with one.’ She grabbed a bottle from the fridge and topped up Iris’s wine while she was at it.

‘Ooh, you’ll get me all tiddly,’ said Iris, but still held her glass out at full stretch.

‘Dinner is served,’ said Tim, wiping his hands on his apron.

‘Great, I’m starving. I didn’t have lunch today.’

He frowned. ‘You need to look after yourself.’

‘I’m fine. I’ve got you, haven’t I?’

‘Indeed, you have,’ he said, wagging a finger, ‘but you still need to buy a sandwich at lunchtime.’

Iris reached into her handbag as Tim started spooning lasagne onto plates.

‘Before we start . . . I want you to have this.’ She handed over a brown envelope.

‘What is it?’ asked Kate as she sat down next to her. She peered in and was met with a wodge of notes. ‘Oh no, no, no . . . I can’t take this.’ She handed it straight back. ‘It’s your pension money.’

‘I’m not leaving till you do, so you might as well, otherwise you’ll be setting up a camp bed on the living-room floor. And I don’t think my arthritis would like that very much.’

‘But—’

‘Shush,’ said Iris, talking over her. ‘It’s only two hundred pounds but it all helps.’

‘Two hundred pounds!’ started Kate, but she was met with a stern look and knew arguing was futile. She also knew what a dent that would have made in Iris’s income. ‘I’m incredibly grateful,’ she said softly.

‘She was like a granddaughter to me, your Becky, so it’s the least I can do. Now, who’s for some peas?’

After dinner, once Iris had dozed off in the armchair, Tim and Kate snuck out of the living room to tackle the washing-up. The long day and the beer had got to Kate and she was quiet, happy to just dry the dishes as Tim methodically stacked them on the drainer. She leaned her head against his shoulder as she waited for the next item. ‘Are you on the early shift tomorrow?’

‘Yes. I’ll be gone at five.’

She sighed. ‘We never seem to see much of each other.’

‘Are you working late?’

She nodded.

‘I’ll come and cook for you again.’

Kate was filled with such a rush of love, she pulled him away from the sink and wrapped her arms around his neck, then kissed him softly.

He smiled. ‘That was nice.’ He lifted his arms, but she still held on. ‘I’m dripping.’

‘Move in.’

‘What?’

‘Then at least we’ll see each other whenever we’re not working.’

Tim turned to face her. ‘Seriously?’

‘Why not? I know our relationship has had a funny start . . . we haven’t even gone on many dates, well none, really, since . . . except that one time to the cinema . . .’ She took a deep breath, suddenly realizing something. ‘Sometimes I feel as if I don’t really know anything about you. The accident eclipsed everything. I’ve been so distracted by it all.’