I told myself it was the less than satisfactory signal that had kept the call brief and stuffed the phone in my pocket.

‘What’s with the face?’ I asked Maya, who was still pouting.

‘You should have said the traffic was heavy or something,’ she admonished. ‘Or that there was a hold up. We could have had a bit more time playing hooky and found somewhere to stop and eat lunch then.’

‘It’s all right,’ I told her with a sigh. ‘Ned suggested we should stop and eat anyway.’

Maya swerved a little as she looked at me, causing the car behind to toot.

‘What?’ I said, my eyes fixed on the road.

‘Well, that’s a first,’ she gasped. ‘He’s always rush, rush, rush at this time of year.’

‘I thought as much,’ I sighed again.

‘I wonder what he’s up to?’ she frowned.

‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘He’s up to nothing. He’s just happy I’m going to be off-site for a bit longer and won’t be able to bugger anything else up.’

‘Oh, I’m sure that’s not it,’ she began, but the look I threw her silenced her.

As it wasn’t too chilly, and we were already wrapped in multiple layers, we found a wooded picnic site and tucked into the delicious soup from the pot Maya said her mum always had on the stove in winter. There were sausage rolls from the Wynmouth butcher too, apples, also from Maya’s kitchen and cookies which Hope had made. It was all delicious and we ate in companionable silence until our bellies were full.

‘So,’ I stole myself to ask once I’d thanked her for the tasty repast, ‘how are things going with you and Ned?’

Maya wrinkled her nose and chewed her final mouthful of cookie wearing a thoughtful expression.

‘Slowly,’ she said, once she’d swallowed. ‘Very slowly.’

She didn’t sound very impressed with the glacial pace.

‘Well, that’s something,’ I responded. ‘Given what you told me before, it’s far better than the not-moving-at-all that you’ve been stuck with in the past.’

‘Mmm,’ she said. ‘I suppose, but I can’t help thinking there’s something nagging away that’s stopping him from focusing on us.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He’s distracted,’ she frowned. ‘All the time.’

‘Well, that’s hardly surprising given the time of year, is it?’ I pointed out. ‘Maybe you need to wait for the end of the season for things to speed up. Come the spring there’ll be less to do on the plantation and you can make the most of the beach.’

Sometimes I forgot that Wynter’s Trees was located so close to the coast. I’d barely visited the village since I’d been back and I’d only seen the sea once. But then, given it was the middle of December, it was hardly the cosiest place to hang out.