‘I was just about to message you,’ I said, as I dumped the damp bucket and net on the path and unlocked the door. ‘Come in.’

I filled the kettle while Joe made himself at home.

‘What have you been up to this week?’ I asked, further swallowing down my curiosity about his chat with Hope.

‘Not staying out of your way because I embarrassed myself over a goodnight kiss,’ he said, ‘if that’s what you’re thinking?’

‘Of course not,’ I said, relieved to hear that he was joking. ‘I haven’t given it another thought.’

‘I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse,’ he laughed.

I didn’t dwell on the fact that now he knew how I felt!

‘What I mean,’ I said, ‘is that I’ve been so preoccupied with thoughts of our inimitable, never to be repeated, Elton and Kiki duet, that nothing else has really stood a chance.’

‘Never to be repeated,’ he said, sounding crestfallen. ‘I was rather hoping that was going to become a regular thing.’

‘No way,’ I laughed. ‘For a start, I’ll be leaving before the end of the summer and you said the trick was to always leave them wanting more, didn’t you?’

‘Oh yeah,’ he said, scratching his head. ‘I do seem to remember saying something like that.’

‘So,’ I said, tracking back to my original question. ‘How’s your week been? Have you been busy?’

He didn’t answer until I carried our drinks through.

‘You could say that,’ he said, taking a mug from the tray. ‘And Charlie’s still digging his heels in.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ I said. ‘I was hoping you might have found some common ground by now.’

‘Me too.’

It was sad to think that between them they couldn’t work it out.

‘Well,’ I said, trying to inject some cheer into the conversation, ‘you can forget about Charlie and the farm for a while over the weekend, because I have plans for you, Joe Upton.’

I was hoping that if I kept my tone light and made it sound like a fun night out, then he might just get swept along and agree to it before he realized exactly what it was.

‘No can do, I’m afraid,’ he said, shooting me down before I’d even pitched the idea. ‘I’ve got to go away for a bit.’

‘Oh no,’ I said, ‘when?’

‘This afternoon,’ he said, nodding at the clock on the bookcase, ‘almost this minute, in fact.’

‘That’s such a shame,’ I huffed. ‘I was going to enter us as a team in the board game club competition.’

The expression on his face pretty much matched the one Hope had worn when I first aired the idea to her.

‘The board game club that happens at the pub?’

‘Yes.’

‘The club that Sam runs in the Smuggler’s next door?’

‘The very same.’

‘You’re kidding, right?’