New Year’s Eve was always hard for his mother. It was the anniversary of the day his father left. Quinn had learnt it was better to answer quickly, talk her down from whatever trigger had upset her. If he ignored her calls, it only made it more likely she’d have a full-blown panic attack.

Over the phone he managed to calm her. She was anxious about the locks on the French windows again. He was patient, he listened, he spoke in soothing tones, but inside he felt himself growing tense at the sound of her voice. He willed her to rally. He didn’t want to go home; he didn’t want to cut this evening short.

Back at the table, Polly had finished her main course.

‘Is everything OK?’ she asked. ‘Do you need to go?’

‘No, it’s fine. I’m sorry.’ How many times had they had this conversation in the last six months? How many times had he apologised?

Polly rearranged the wine glasses on the table, setting them into a symmetrical pattern.

‘She knows we’re celebrating tonight,’ Polly said with a sigh.

‘She doesn’t do it on purpose, Pol. It’s been a tough few months, with Dad getting married again.’

Polly watched him across the table as he tried to paste on a smile.

‘And it was a tough month in September when your aunt went home.’

‘Yeah, there are a lot of tough months … what do you want me to do?’ he said, more sharply than he meant to.

‘It just doesn’t seem fair on you,’ Polly said, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

Quinn wordlessly shook his head. ‘Please, let’s not talk about it tonight,’ he said, shuffling forward on his chair. ‘I want this evening to be about us, about you.’

He looked up and caught her blinking away the concerned look in her eyes.

‘My favourite topic,’ she said. ‘No, I lie, my favourite topic is cheese, as you know.’

‘Look Pol, I know it’s not been easy to see each other, but everything in my life changed when I met you. I meant what I said the other night – I love you. You’re the first girl I’ve ever said it to and I’ve never felt so sure about anything.’

‘I love you too, Q,’ Polly said, holding his gaze.

Quinn felt a warm pulse of energy pump through his whole body. To be loved by the one you love – was there any greater feeling?

After dessert, an extra course arrived from the kitchen.

‘The chef has prepared a miniature Christmas pudding, filled with brandy-infused crème patissière, compliments of the season,’ said the waiter with a bow.

‘This is such a treat! Thank you so much – the food has been superb!’ Polly gave the waiter a beaming smile. Her effusive energy caught him off guard and he gave her an awkward nod.