‘So,’ he asked, offering me a hand so I could climb out without my dress riding up, ‘what are your plans for tomorrow night? Saturday nights in Wynmouth aren’t exactly buzzing, are they?’

I knew he was making a big effort to end the afternoon on a happier note and I played along.

‘Oh, mine’s going to be wild,’ I said, ‘there’s this kitsch jigsaw featuring kittens in a basket in the cottage and it’s been calling me practically since the moment I arrived.’

Joe laughed. It was good to hear.

‘Sod that,’ he said, handing me my bag. ‘I think we should have a proper night out. Are you up for a wild night on the tiles?’

‘Really?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I need to kick up my heels.’

‘Kick up your heels?’ I laughed. ‘Who says that?’

‘Me,’ he said, ‘apparently. So, are you up for it?’

Meeting my first kiss again, and discovering I had quite a lot in common with him, was the last thing I had been expecting when I sent off my booking confirmation, but then a lot of other things in Wynmouth I’d encountered so far hadn’t turned out how I had expected them to either. My memories of the place were metamorphosing along with what I had discovered about my parents and I knew I needed to maintain some balance if I was going to stop myself from retreating to the sanctuary of the cottage and tying myself up in knots.

‘Are you up for it, Tess?’ Joe asked again.

‘You know what,’ I grinned, ‘I think I am.’

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Before Joe left, we finalized arrangements for the next evening.

‘I’ll drive,’ I insisted. ‘My car’s been standing idle since I arrived so it could do with a bit of a run.’

‘But then you won’t be able to drink,’ Joe pointed out.

‘I’m not worried about that.’

‘What do you drive?’

‘Why?’ I frowned, not seeing how it was relevant. ‘Does it matter?’

‘Well,’ he said, ‘it does if it’s anything even remotely high end, because you won’t want to go bumping it down the pot-holed farm track. I’m guessing it’s not an off-roader?’

‘No,’ I told him, grateful that he was mindful of my car’s suspension, ‘it isn’t. It’s a Mercedes C-Class.’

‘Bloody hell, Tess,’ he grinned. ‘That’s a cracking car.’

‘A cabriolet,’ I smiled back. ‘It’s okay. It gets me from A to B.’

Joe shook his head.

‘Yeah, right,’ he laughed. ‘I’ll bet it’s a darn sight more than just okay.’

He was right again. The car was my pride and joy. A luxurious indulgence and a much-loved reward for a hell of a lot of hard work, which had been very well done.