Anna took a breath, smiled and said, ‘Hello.’ Yes, she was feeling a bit antisocial at the moment, but she wasn’t rude. That was also why, as they began tiptoeing through the small talk, she didn’t tell him salsa classes had been Gabi’s idea. Something to get Anna out of the house. Something to take her mind off things. Before that, it had been conversational Italian, and before that, silver jewellery making. Even flipping car maintenance.

And so that was how Anna ended up talking to Jeremy in the kitchen for half an hour. He was a nice man, she decided. Not too full of himself. Not boring. And he’d obviously been blindsided by Gabi’s not-so-subtle attempt at matchmaking too. He was trying his best to hide it but not quite succeeding. Anna liked him more for that.

When he suggested moving outside to get away from the crush and noise of the kitchen, she followed him. ‘So, how did you become such a salsa expert?’ she asked, as they made their way out onto the deck overlooking the immaculate back garden.

Jeremy made a face. ‘I definitely wouldn’t call myself an expert.’

‘No? How long have you been taking lessons?’

He rubbed a hand over his face and laughed. He had a nice smile, Anna thought. There was a twinkle in his eyes, a warmth there, something genuine. ‘Well, that’s just it… I’ve only been a handful of times, and that was because my sister was desperate to go and my brother-in-law flat-out refused.’

Anna laughed along with him. Not a full-on belly laugh, more a soft chuckle, but it shocked her so much she fell silent again almost instantly. The sound was foreign to her ears, the gentle juddering of her shoulders, alien. How long had it been since she’d last laughed? She wanted to answer ‘days’, but that would be bare-faced lying. ‘Weeks’ was also probably a tad optimistic.

Maybe that was why she threw herself into the conversation with this nice man more fully, why she found herself not just standing there, smiling and nodding in the right places, but talking back, sharing little bits of information about herself. Maybe that was why, when he told her about the salsa classes and said he’d brave them again should she wish to go and not want to walk through the door alone, she said she’d think about it.

It struck her, as she steered the conversation towards another subject, that Gabi had picked well. Very well. Because in another life, another reality, she might be feeling butterflies at the thought of dancing with Jeremy, at the thought of placing her hand in his, feeling the brush of his palm against hers when they moved. As they leaned on the deck railing, Jeremy kept looking at her, and every time he did, she was surprised to discover delicate wings tickled her inside.

But Anna knew not to pay much heed to the fluttering. Butterflies were short-lived creatures and, given the frost hardening the depths of her soul, they’d probably be dead soon. Frozen stiff, poor things.