He kissed me again and left me to pull myself together.

I scrolled through my phone to Tuesday, 6th May: confess.

I had a sickening feeling that Nora Sharp might end up forcing a confession a day early.

The next forty-eight hours flew past in a blur. Friday evening started with a confused and concerned apology from Alice on the phone, followed by an embarrassed apology from me, and went on to become a tornado of baking, prepping and final touches. After the expected next-to-no sleep, on Saturday morning I lugged myself downstairs to start again. The four guests, all female, arrived in a spray of gravel and overblown enthusiasm, declaring everything ‘totally perfect!’ and ‘super-cute!’ before devouring lunch on the patio.

‘I can’t believe how great this is, Tammers!’ Felicia, who had made the initial booking, shrieked as Alice and I cleared their empty plates. ‘I swear that gluten-free bread is a certified miracle.’

‘I know!’ Tammers hollered. ‘And when was the last time we ate cheese?’ She broke off into snort-laughs.

‘And it’s like, I don’t even care!’ another guest, who they called Dinky but whose credit card said Bethany Brown, tittered. ‘Bring on the cheese! Extra dairy, extra cheesy, please!’

‘This place is like a cross between Narnia, heaven and my Grandma’s house,’ the fourth guest said, tossing a mane of silver hair over her perfectly tanned shoulder. ‘It’s like anything is possible. They could totally bring out some cake and I would even eat some?’

‘Yes! It’s like my grandmother’s house!’ Tammers agreed. ‘Not Granny Rose, she lived in a haunted hovel. But Grandma Camelia, oh, I loved going to her house! And it was just like this, only with a pool and tennis courts.’

‘I think we can see a theme emerging for your sessions,’ Alice said to Becky as she loaded the dishwasher.

‘Oh?’ Becky was arranging cocktail ingredients on a tray. ‘Should I be worried?’

‘No.’ I scraped the smear of leftovers into the compost bin. ‘Underneath all the supers and perfects, they’re actually pretty super themselves. I’ve spent a lot of time eating in places stuffed with posh people, and I’ve never heard so much gratitude for a two-course lunch.’

‘She’s right,’ Alice grudgingly agreed. ‘Not a hint of snark between them. They’re like you two. Genuinely, nauseatingly nice.’

‘Sounds like it’s going to be a good weekend,’ Becky stuck her tongue out at Alice as she went to see for herself.

I smiled as I carried on clearing up. I couldn’t see the resemblance to me, but almost everything about them reminded me of Charlie.

In retreat terms, it was as good as we’d hoped. Our guests continued to bounce from one activity to another, enchanted by our tiny taste of country life. In response to their gentle begging, we even diverted the sunrise hike to visit some newborn calves.

‘Is he spoken for?’ Tammers asked Becky out of the corner of her mouth, her gaze transfixed on Luke, hefting trellis tables out of his van and over to the orchard in readiness for the stallholders on Monday.