‘He’s called Coco,’ said the old man.

‘Maybe he’ll get an extra ration of fish or something – might make his poor little love-struck day.’

Quinn and Minnie spent hours strolling around the rest of the zoo. Minnie was intent on reading all the information about every animal. She bought them ice creams as they walked. Quinn bought a headband with giraffe ears on for her and a hat with elephant ears on for himself. They chatted so easily about everything and nothing, veering effortlessly between silly and serious in the space of a sentence. Minnie liked this version of Quinn; she liked his manner, his humour, the ease he had with his own body. Minnie liked this version of herself, too; she liked the person she was around him. Now she didn’t have her defences up, she felt fun, optimistic, interesting. She hardly recognised herself and yet, somehow, this person felt like the truest reflection of who she really was.

When they’d finally seen all the animals, they stood near the exit and turned to face each other.

‘Well, thank you for that,’ Minnie said, biting her lip. ‘I’ve had a lovely time. Plus, now I finally know what a giraffe looks like.’

‘You’re welcome,’ said Quinn with a little bow. ‘Thank you for helping me choose a penguin.’

‘I can’t take you seriously with those elephant ears on,’ Minnie laughed.

Quinn pulled the hat from his head and looked back at her.

‘That’s better,’ said Minnie, reaching up to tap his nose with a forefinger. ‘You don’t have a big enough nose to pull off the elephant look.’

Quinn reached up to intercept her hand, to stop her from tapping his nose, but he held on a beat too long before letting her go.

‘I don’t know if you really get to adopt a specific penguin,’ Quinn said, his gaze following the hand he had let go.

‘That’s why I smuggled Coco out under my coat,’ Minnie whispered as she leant in towards him.

He reached out for her coat collar, gently pulling her towards him, pretending to look beneath her coat for the stowaway.

‘You’re full of surprises, Minnie Cooper,’ he said in a deep, soft drawl.

She looked up into his eyes, her face so close to his. He was going to kiss her; Minnie felt her heart in her throat, every part of her alive with anticipation. Then something flashed across his face. Doubt? Fear? He pinched his lips shut and turned their physical proximity into an awkward hug. He patted her back then extracted himself and turned briskly towards the exit.

What the hell was that? Minnie blanched. She hugged her arms around herself, wounded by the indignity of being patted like a dog. She’d been sure he was about to kiss her. Was she so deluded that she’d entirely misread this chemistry between them?