‘I haven’t been here since lunchtime,’ Sam said. ‘Not that I need to explain my movements to you as you seem to think you know them already. I haven’t seen Joe, I haven’t heard Joe and quite frankly, I can’t believe that you would think that I’d tell anyone about what happened Saturday night, especially as it was something and nothing.’

I swallowed, my eyes stinging with tears.

‘Perhaps you should ask Patrick over there if he knows anything about it,’ he said, pointing. ‘He’s one of Joe’s farmhands and he was hanging on in here until I turfed him out Saturday night. Maybe he saw something and had a word with his boss.’

I slowly turned to find a guy with scruffy shoulder-length hair, nursing a pint and looking sheepish.

‘Well?’ I demanded.

‘I was having a smoke out front earlier when I saw the boss,’ he explained, ‘and I might have mentioned that I had seen you and Sam having a bit of a moment.’

I felt my misplaced anger oozing away and puddling around my feet.

‘I’d had a pint or two that night,’ he admitted, ‘so I might not have quite got all the details right, but the pair of you were definitely in some sort of clinch.’

Sam shook his head in disbelief and let out a guttural growl.

‘She’d had a pint or two as well, you prat,’ he growled at Patrick, as he pointed at me. ‘She fell over and I caught her.’

It had been wine rather than beer, but that was a minor detail and not worth mentioning.

‘Oh,’ said Patrick.

‘It was a reflex action,’ Sam went on, ‘nothing more. And besides, I could hardly risk her bloody suing me if she took a knock on the way down, could I?’

I didn’t think it would be helpful either to mention that when I had ended up in his arms, he had started to say something very interesting to me about his head and his heart, but it was all clear as a bell in my head now.

‘I suppose not,’ Patrick muttered.

Sam turned his attention back to me and shook his head.

‘The show’s over, folks,’ he announced, trying to draw a line under the completely unnecessary scene I had just instigated.

It took a few seconds, but eventually everyone went back to their drinks and their own conversations, which were no doubt about me and my big mouth, and I bet a few of them were keener to still believe the fiction rather than the facts.

‘Well,’ said Sam, ‘that was unpleasant, wasn’t it?’

‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, feeling every bit as bad as I deserved to. ‘Joe said—’

‘I don’t care what he said,’ Sam interrupted. ‘I’m more upset that you thought I would break the promise I’d made.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said again.