I shuffled in my seat. I didn’t not want to show my friend that Daniel and I were exploring being more than friends. Maybe partly because I wanted to remind her what a decent boyfriend looked like.

We set off after a fortifying breakfast of eggs on rye toast, relieved to see the good weather was continuing. We spotted a smattering of new buds on the apple trees as we weaved through the orchard, the ground awash with a sea of daffodils and speckled with the first of the bluebells.

‘Excited about reviving it again?’

Daniel nodded, his head tipped up to inspect the straggling boughs overhead. ‘I’m thinking about Apple Day. It was a much smaller thing when we used to celebrate it, but they’re all over the place now.’

‘Apple Day?’

‘It’s held in October.’ We began moving on towards the other side of the orchard. ‘Everywhere does it differently, but there’s usually cooking demonstrations and cider tasting, games and village fete stuff like music and craft stalls. Loads of apple related produce on sale. We used to serve cups of apple and parsnip soup and masses of pies and cakes. In the evening we’d have a bonfire, and get some of the old miners’ band to play. It was Charlie’s favourite day of the year, when her orchard became one big party.’

‘Sounds fantastic. Are you thinking of doing one this year?’

He shrugged as he opened the gate to the meadow beyond. ‘I spoke to Ziva about it. But we’ve both reached the point where a community day involving only the Old Side feels wrong.’

‘Were only the Old Side invited before?’

‘Only the Old Siders ever came.’

‘You never know what could happen between now and October.’

Daniel winked at me. ‘Up until somewhere around the middle of January I would have rebuffed that comment. These days, I’m inclined to believe anything is possible.’

As usual, time in Daniel’s company soon dissolved any resolve to keep an element of distance between us. Walking and talking together, Hope joining in over his shoulder with her happy nonsense chatter, felt a mixture of thrilling and at the same time blissfully comfortable. He listened to everything I had to say, asking interested questions and following up with his own stories and observations that were relevant and in no way constructed to boost his ego.

We talked more about the orchard, and potential plans, how we could incorporate pruning and fruit picking into the retreat programme. We shared more anecdotes from our childhoods, Daniel now able to fully appreciate how my parents had shaped my younger years, and both of us swapping notes about the blessings and frustrations of growing up in a home that doubled up as the family business.

By the time we’d moved on to modern conservation issues and the environmental impact of intensive farming versus the economic trials of more sustainable methods, we had braved crossing the tiny, crumbling footbridge and had officially entered the New Side.