‘Surely,’ said Penny, ‘They all say, you fancy Penny Bridge.’

‘I think we’ve established that,’ remarked Thomas, humorously. ‘The question is, could I love Penny Bridge?’

Penny fell quiet. Love? She hadn’t thought that was on the table. He was heading back on tour in a few days. She’d only been messing around.

‘Okay,’ he said, as if he hadn’t just raised the issue of the ‘L’ word. ‘I’ve got the questions. Are you comfortable? Shall I get more wine?’

They were snuggled in front of the log fire in the lower bar of the pub, after hours. Penny was excited by the novelty of it – a real fire felt very country, and incredibly festive. Thomas had shown her how to lay it – old newspaper balled up but not too tightly, kindling on top in a tee-pee shape, and a big log to finish it off.

‘It’s kind of how I feel about relationships,’ he’d explained. ‘There needs to be enough room to breathe, but also enough going on to get the spark going.’

‘Cute,’ said Penny, rolling her eyes playfully at his cheesiness.

‘I try my best,’ he’d replied, winking.

She got up to get a jug of water and some glasses for them, and to top up their snack of homemade roasted almonds – something the local drinkers had gone wild for, and Penny was glad. It was important to her that they felt included in the restaurant’s growing reputation. It was a pub that did food, but locals were as welcome as ever to simply come and drink in the top part of the bar. She wanted them to know that.

‘Question one,’ Thomas said, starting to speak before Penny had even returned to her spot.

‘Oh, you’re starting, are you?’ she questioned, shouting from behind the bar.

‘I’m using my initiative,’ Thomas responded. ‘The quicker we do this, the quicker we get to run off into the sunset.’

Penny rolled her eyes. He was impatient, and she tried to be forgiving about it. ‘Question one …’ she repeated, good-naturedly. ‘Go on.’

‘Who is your top choice of dinner guest, dead or alive?’

Penny didn’t even need to think about it. ‘My mother,’ she settled on, simply, heading back over to him and sitting back down. ‘I’d do anything to dine across from her and tell her what I’ve been doing these past twenty years. Ask her if she’s proud of me.’

Thomas looked at her. ‘She’s proud of you, Pen.’

Penny avoided eye contact. He was so kind to her, Thomas – impatient, yes, but also sweet and gentle when he needed to be. For somebody she’d dismissed as a playboy, his emotional intelligence was very attuned. She smiled at him fondly and pressed on: ‘And your answer?’