‘Second best?’ I whispered, because the question begged to be asked, even if it was taking things slightly off-track.

His eyes crinkled, and he answered at the same instant I realised. ‘Hope,’ we said together, smiling. I could be second best to Hope.

‘We should probably get back to her,’ I breathed. Daniel ignored me, instead he slowly reached one hand up and stroked my hair back from my face, keeping it caught in his hand as it rested against the side of my head. As every nerve in my body hummed with anticipation, he bent even closer, not once breaking my gaze, and then, so gently I might be able to convince myself later I’d imagined it, he closed his eyes at the very last millisecond and pressed his lips against mine.

The taxi horn beeped. ‘Meter’s running!’

Daniel pulled back, waving in acknowledgement while somehow keeping his eyes fixed on mine, and wrapped my hand in his as though he’d done it a hundred times before. We hurried to the car, climbed in and rode the brief journey back to the Tufted Duck in silence. Whether Daniel’s was regretful, embarrassed or contented I hadn’t a clue. Mine was a mix of the last two. Potentially the first one, depending upon what happened next.

What happened was that Daniel kept my trembling hand tucked safely in his right up until we reached the kitchen door. He paused to smile at me – and by smile, I mean an expression of delight that I’d only seen him direct at his daughter prior to this moment – then he carefully smoothed back a loose strand of my hair, as if that one small kiss had been enough to dishevel my appearance as well as my heart. He cleared his throat, straightened his shirt and stepped inside.

Mum was in the kitchen, boiling the kettle for her evening herbal tea.

‘Hi, Mum.’

‘Did you have a nice meal?’

‘It was amazing, thanks,’ Daniel replied.

‘Adequate cleanliness?’

‘Faultless,’ I said.

‘Right then. Goodnight.’

After that grilling, she headed upstairs, leaving us to find Dad, Grandma and Hope in the lounge room, watching the end of the ten o’clock news.

Hope was fast asleep, curled up on a cushion beside Grandma and swaddled in Daniel’s T-shirt.

‘She’s been perfect,’ Grandma cooed.

Dad nodded in agreement, clicking off the television. ‘Right then, we’ll leave you to it. Come on, Mother.’

‘I haven’t asked Eleanor and her friend about their evening, yet,’ she protested.

‘Well, go on then,’ he said, pointedly checking his watch.

‘How was your evening? Did you have a lovely meal?’

‘Yes, it was incredible,’ I said.

‘The company or the food?’ Grandma asked, throwing an exaggerated wink at Daniel.

‘Both were lovely,’ he smiled back.

‘Hygiene?’ Dad asked.

‘Five stars.’ I rolled my eyes.

‘One to add to the guest folder then.’

‘Not one to write one of your horrible reviews about,’ Grandma chortled, as Dad stood by the door, impatiently rocking on his heels. ‘Can you remember, she used to say such mean things about places! What a good job you moved to London, Eleanor, and started that nice blog instead before anyone found out!’