I looked at the scribbled note and scolded myself for being so presumptuous. I was new to the village and Joe was only recently back in it. Having fatefully met, surely it was only natural that we would gravitate towards one another? We were going out for cucumber sandwiches and loose-leaf tea, not an intimate candlelit dinner for two after all.

*

‘Wow!’ was the first thing Joe said when I opened the door to him that Friday. ‘Tess, you look gorgeous.’

‘Thank you,’ I smiled, feeling my face flush. ‘You look rather smart yourself.’

He bowed in response.

I had only packed two dresses, and thankfully this one was floaty, floral and ideal for an afternoon tea excursion. Teamed with smart sandals, my toenails painted the same shade of pink as my fingernails, and with a structured wicker bag over my shoulder, it was a pretty ensemble and I was pleased with the result.

‘And I like your hair like that,’ said Joe, rushing to open the door of the Land Rover, which I could see had had a bit of a clean. ‘It suits you, as do the freckles.’

I had let my hair air dry to emphasize the curls I was usually so keen to straighten and left them loose.

‘I’m not really a fan of freckles,’ I said, conscious of my now speckled shoulders, neck and face, ‘but they seem to like me.’

Usually in the summer, I covered them with layers of make-up but in Wynmouth I had become as detached from my make-up bag as I had from my phone. I was surprised by how confident I felt with this less polished version of myself and it was liberating to leave so many of my products and cosmetics untouched.

‘They certainly do,’ Joe smiled, his eyes lingering on mine as he climbed into the driving seat. ‘Right, let’s go,’ he said, when he checked the mirror and saw Sam writing on the chalkboard outside the pub.

‘No Bruce today?’ I said, looking in the back at where the mutinous mutt had been confined after almost tipping me off the cliff. ‘Is he not a fan of afternoon tea? He seemed to enjoy Caribbean curry crumbs the other night.’

Joe shook his head.

‘The little bugger has been more Hulk than Banner today, so Charlie’s dealing with him,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘He’s his dog after all and besides, the place we’re going to doesn’t allow loopy labs.’

‘Charlie?’

‘My older brother.’

‘Who runs your family farm.’

‘Allegedly,’ Joe muttered.

Joe drove us along the coastal route. Sitting slightly higher in the 4x4 meant that I could make the most of the view and I spent much of the journey admiring the landscape.

‘I take it you’re a city girl,’ Joe suggested, sounding amused after I’d pointed out another picturesque view. ‘Are you not used to all these wide-open spaces?’