‘It’s good to see you again,’ he said.

She wished he’d take her in his arms, but he greeted her with another little awkward kiss on the cheek. She hid her disappointment.

‘You too,’ she replied.

‘Have you been here before?’

She shook her head.

‘It’s really beautiful.’

He led her to a stile at the end of the lay-by and held her hand as she climbed over. She didn’t want him to ever let go. But he did, and they started along a narrow footpath that was almost lost to the surrounding vegetation. Nature was trying to reclaim the scars man had scored across the hillside, but there was enough of a cut remaining for them to push their way through.

‘It gets better,’ Ben assured her.

He was right. After thirty paces, the blackberry bushes and thick shrubs fell away to reveal a broad track. They walked side by side in the warm sunshine. There was an edge on the breeze that made it feel as though these were the last days of summer, and Harri wondered whether she’d have a companion for the long winter nights, someone to keep her warm, to hold her against the frost’s sharp bite.

She looked at him, his face almost burned out by the sun which flared behind his head.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, glancing at the avenues of trees that stood either side of them.

‘Wait until you see the view from the top.’

‘Are you from here?’ Harri asked.

Ben shook his head. ‘You?’

‘No. I’m from London. Battersea originally. Then all over.’

‘What brought you up here?’ He was looking at her now, and she felt those butterflies again. His words didn’t matter. His eyes told her everything she needed to know. They gazed into hers as though nothing else existed and she was his world.

She flushed and looked away.

‘The job. London was getting me down and I had to make a choice; career fast-track or a better, slower way of life. I chose a better life.’

‘I’m glad you did.’ He grinned.

‘So am I,’ she replied. ‘What about you?’

‘I came here for work.’

‘You said when we were emailing that you’re a scientist.’

He nodded. ‘I work at Keele University, in the physics department.’

‘I was never any good at physics. Too much maths.’ Harri immediately regretted her reply. She didn’t want him to think her stupid.

‘It’s like that for a while,’ he responded. ‘But there comes a time when you realize God wasn’t a mathematician. She was an artist. The best physicists are poets. They’re the only ones who can bridge the gap between the artist and her work.’

‘You believe in God?’ Harri asked.

‘Not really, but I do believe in fate. Some things are just meant to be.’

She felt a thrill of excitement as he took her hand. They smiled at each other and walked on without saying another word. The breeze set the trees swaying and the rustle of leaves and creak of branches was their accompaniment. A chorus of singing birds rose above the rustle and creak, and as she and Ben climbed the hill, Harri wished they could stay in this moment for ever. It was full of promise, unspoiled by complication or disappointment. Everything could be perfect. It should be perfect, and it should last for ever. But it wouldn’t, and so, even as they continued along the track, perfection was tinged with sadness, the imperfection of what was to come.