A door to the right gave her a glimpse into a beautiful room. Trying to take it all in, she was left with the impression of elegant comfort and hoped he’d bring her inside, allowing her to examine the details.

Instead, he led the way to the back of the house. Allison followed, her heels click-clicking on the beautiful tiles, her eyes glued to their geometric design in shades of brown and orange.

‘I’m lucky,’ Peter said, drawing her eyes up. ‘The tiles are original.’ He pushed open the door in front of him. ‘I’ve changed some of the house but unfortunately, it’s a work in progress. This’ – he indicated the interior of the galley kitchen – ‘is next on the list.’

Allison looked into the narrow, cluttered room and searched for words that weren’t critical. Luckily, since she couldn’t find any, Peter slapped the wall with the flat of his hand. ‘My plan is to knock this wall down and have a big kitchen-diner. It would be much better. I was always telling Mum she should do it.’

It was the first time he’d mentioned his family. Had she been remiss in not asking? Possibly. Family dynamics were something she tried to avoid. ‘Your mum?’

‘Yes, didn’t I say? This was my parents’ house. They died a few years ago. Mum first, then my father simply faded away and followed her a few months later.’

Allison, who hadn’t mourned the loss of her parents, heard genuine sadness in his voice and reached for the convenient conventional words of sympathy. ‘How terribly sad; you must have been devastated to lose them both.’

He smiled sadly at her. ‘Not as traumatic as losing both together in an accident as you did, but yes, it was a difficult time.’ He lifted the lid from a pot on the cooker, picked up a wooden spoon and gave the contents a stir. ‘I inherited the house, of course.’

He’d inherited this amazing house. All Allison had inherited had been bad memories, frightening dreams, a desperate need that she’d never managed to satisfy. Maybe this time…

Peter opened the fridge, took out a bottle of wine and poured them both a glass. ‘Cheers!’

She tipped his glass with hers. ‘Cheers.’

‘Right,’ he said. ‘There’s not much room. You can stand in the doorway while I work my magic.’

She did as he suggested and stood leaning against the door frame, sipping the wine and watching him cook.

‘Mum was forty when she discovered she was pregnant,’ he said, using his teeth to open a packet. ‘She used to call me her surprise child.’ He grinned at Allison. ‘I think “shock child” might have been closer to the truth. She was never particularly interested in having children and when they didn’t come along, she wasn’t bothered.’