‘It’s painful enough that it’s all been stirred up again,’ he said, ‘so I don’t want either of you making it worse because you’ve got it into your heads that you can somehow make it better. Whatever it is that the pair of you might be thinking you can do, I want you to forget it, okay?’

I may have had one drink too many, but I wasn’t so squiffy that I couldn’t see how much he was hurting. Part of me wished that Joe had been able to stay away, that everything was fine at the farm and everyone’s lives could continue as before, but there was another more practical part which knew that everyone was simply pretending and that until they ripped off the band-aid and let the wound get some air, it would never properly heal.

‘We just want you to be happy,’ I whispered.

‘And you have my best interests at heart,’ he cut in, more or less word for word finishing what I was going to say.

In my head I also had Joe’s name in the happiness and best interests mix and Hope’s and Charlie’s because they all deserved to be there, didn’t they?

‘Sam,’ I began, as I took another step closer, ‘you have to understand . . .’

I only wanted to close the gap between us a little, but my foot became caught around a chair leg and I fell forward, so that rather than simply standing a little nearer, I landed heavily in his arms and found my body pressed close to his.

‘What do I have to understand?’ he swallowed.

He wasn’t loosening his grip and I opened my mouth to tell him, but the words just wouldn’t come.

‘That my head has been all over the place from the very moment . . .’ he began when I didn’t answer. ‘That my heart . . .’

‘Go on,’ I urged.

I would have dearly loved to have heard the end of either of those sentences, but he didn’t finish them and before I realized what was happening, I found my head moving closer to his, my eyes locked on his lips and my desire to kiss him blocking out all reason and all thoughts that he already had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who also happened to be a very dear friend.

‘Tess.’

The sound of my name on his lips, spoken in such a sultry tone, was the most seductive thing I had ever heard.

‘Yes . . .’

I let out an unexpected and ungracious hiccup and thankfully came to my senses.

‘I think I’d better go home,’ I whispered, stepping unsteadily back. ‘I don’t feel very well.’

‘I’ll walk you back,’ he said, releasing me. ‘Otherwise, goodness knows where you’ll end up.’

*